thro the lens

So many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible.

The point is, I’ll be fine until I’m not. That’s all there is to it.

i don't pay attention to the

world ending.

it has ended for me

many times

and began again in the morning.

You came again, but silence

Had fallen on your heart,

And in your eyes were visions

That held us still apart.

And now I go on hearing

The words you did not say,

And the kiss you did not give me

Burns on my lips to-day

You never know what's around the corner. It could be everything. Or it could be nothing. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you've climbed a mountain.

There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.

You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.

Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.

Whenever it rains you will think of her.

Once again she was struck by a sense of profound familiarity. She knew this place. In the story that her mother used to tell, the house had been a literal gateway to another world; for Elodie, though, curled up in her mother's arms, breathing in the exotic fragrance of narcissus that she wore, the story itself had been a gateway, an incantation that carried her away from the here and now and into the land of imagination. After her mother's death, the world of the story had become her secret place. Whether at lunchtime in her new school, or at home in the long, quiet afternoons, or at night when the darkness threatened suffocation, all she had to do was hide herself away and close her eyes and she could cross the river, brave the woods, and enter the enchanted house...

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.

Ends are not bad things, they just mean that something else is about to begin. And there are many things that don't really end, anyway, they just begin again in a new way. Ends are not bad and many ends aren't really an ending; some things are never-ending.

-What else could I do?

-You could try again...

You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.

Its been a long year

Since we last spoke

How's your halo?

Just between you and I

You and me and the satellites

I never believed you

I only wanted to

Before all of this

What did I miss?

Do you ever get homesick?

I can't get used to it

I can't get used to it

I'll never get used to it

I'll never get used to it

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

For blue, blue skies

In the space between yes and no, there's a lifetime. It's the difference between the path you walk and the one you leave behind; it's the gap between who you thought you could be and who you really are; its the legroom for the lies you'll tell yourself in the future.