indeed I once complained and not just once. The amount of grass in our yard, maybe less than my complaints. I do not have to compare myself with diamonds that are so rocky and always glowing sweet. No matter how hard you get him no matter from whatever heights he drops it is heaven for me.
I'm still doubtful whether I'm no more fragile than the pottery in our living room, indeed you've been complaining, of course, the sweat that made your fort decay, of course, the noise that makes you lose the shade. If we are tired repeatedly, or we have been through that same fatigue many times and we know we once jumped it.
Perhaps we will still sit on the same sad beach, the same dim sun the same slow pace. Indeed, our grievances are not only about the cliffs but also about the sand, but also about the dust, but today we have decided we will grasp the climbing rope as fast as we can.
Today I and you a word, lament that we keep it in our storehouse. Even if later we are forced to cry we tears in the whisper. Then whisper that we fold in a white envelope we close carefully, then in the dark night we send to God.
If the tears are still spilled again we prepare a stack of white envelopes, this time we fold a happiness and then we share - share in the colder streets of the blue of our hearts. The envelopes will come back with a warmth for us.
If the tears were still overflowing, it was not easy either? Let's just say, we count how many days we stop in this world, stack the number of days on the left. Then we arrange the number of days we will keep in the next life later on the right side. Later we will realize that the span of time that we hit the lightning fast, compared to the time we will spend to explore the rivers under the garden of heaven. Some of our souls are created as the number one swear, but some are created by the number one fighter, and you are me today.