Sometimes…I am merely searching for words. Anything to capture the colour of living, the breathtaking nature of existence. Sometimes I rise above the here and now, the physical weariness, the aching back from a long day…and I breathe in living.

It is in my ears and eyes, even on my tongue, taste buds tingling at being alive. The momentous nature of it…the incredible ability to touch and to feel…and to think about the touch and the feeling. To ponder aloud and silently the brush that painted today, and still waits to colour tomorrow.

To love.

To breathe.

To be the only person who is me myself.

To be alive.

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