It Is Because I Dove

I Ask Myself: Is Every Story That Has Ever Been Written In This World, A Story Of Suffering And Affliction?

In The World There Exists No Aesthetic Plane, Not Even The Aesthetic Plane Of Goodness.

A Horse Is Freedom So Indominable That It Becomes Useless To Imprison It To Serve Man: It Lets Itself Be Domesticated, But With A Simple, Rebellious Toss Of The Head-shaking Its Mane Like An Abundance Of Free-flowing Hair-it Shows That Its Inner Nature Is Always Wild, Translucent And Free.

The Only Truth Is That I Live. Sincerely, I Live. Who Am I? Well, That's A Bit Much.

Today At School I Wrote An Essay About Flag Day Which Was So Beautiful, But Ever So Beautiful - For I Even Used Words Without Really Knowing What They Meant.