I've always thought that subtlety is the most incredible art in the world. So often I feel as though I am stumbling through life like an inappropriate Donkey, banging into things, knocking down answers, prayers, ramrodding into the easily cracked siding of life.
I love reading into things, like I'm slowly pulling each individual petal off of a flower, to get at the curled, delicate bud inside. Books, forms of texts, and people are so incredibly complex, yet simple. Like there's layers and layers of simple thoughts, emotions, and feelings in them. I read a book called Simplexity once, which if I remember correctly covers it pretty well. If you are complicated, it's okay, it just means you have more inside of you.
There is always more under the obvious. ALWAYS.
And opening up is the most beautiful thing in the world, because then the bud uncurls slowly, quietly. What does a flower sound like when it opens? I want to imagine that sound when someone opens up to me... even a little bit... and smiles.
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