Love ephemeral makes no sense to the human heart.
Illusions of grandeur
In English, Love, Poetry
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Apr 072011
Morning rituals
In English, Life
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Apr 052011
However early or late I awake, the day never really starts until I’m in my bath. Without it I’m stuck in limbo. Sometimes it’s like that until the next morning. It’s here I wake up, balance myself and ponder what’s to be. The point of origin, the birth of the day. I’m reborn here every day.
Place of birth