Aida Zabidi
No one can tell what the future holds for them. That matter is simple enough, regardless of the best laid plans, despite what assurances and safety guards you have put into place. It happens, like the steady trickle of the hourglass in a shop I once saw as a child, steady in its constant, seeming will.

Time is constantly in flux, like the music box dancer, always spinning in a way that reminds me, strangely enough, of love. Perhaps it was those fairytale princesses, with declarations of forever you and I.

Who knows what that hourglass holds?

Is it my actions that will shape those sifting sands? Will it be my arms that provide the strength of much needed connections? Truth fully, we are but cogs and wheels in some greater scheme and will always be looking for more answers.

Until then, my mind is open for the opportunities that will rise, but if I am to make the most of those opportunities… That I leave to you.

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1 Response
  1. well said.love is a losing game and fate resigned-amy whinehouse qouted. haha


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