Someone in love often share the same interest, finish each other sentence, laugh at the same jokes, now a new study suggested that even their heart may beat to the same rhythm. The best and most beautiful thing in the world can not be seen or even touches. The must be felt with the heart.
It’s often just enough to be with someone, I don’t need to touch them nor even talk. A feeling passes between both. You are not alone. Isn’t it to odd how much fatter a book get when you have read it several times, ” I had said” as if something were left between the page every time you read it. Feeling, through, sounds, smell … And then, when you look at the book agin many years later, you find yourself there, to a slightly yourself, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like pressed flower… Both strange and familiar, the best way out is always through
Part of the problem with the word “Disability” is that it immediately suggest an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted. But what of people who can’t feel? Or talk about their feeling? Or manage their feeling in constructive way? What of people who aren’t able to form close and strong relationship? and people who can’t find fulfilment in their lives or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness, and find in life no love, happiness, joy; these it seem to me, are the real disability
I have never minded it “bein lost, that is . I had always throught one can not truly be lost. Of one knowing its own heart. But I fear I may be lost without l knowing yours. I have also observe that the greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity or power but self-rejection, for there could have been no two heart so open no tastes so similar, no feeling so in unison
The most important thing are the hardest thing to say, they are the things you get ashamed of because word diminish your feeling-word shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out
You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love … I love you, I never wish to be painted from you; I don’t know why I love you somuch [ servant ]




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