"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."
Anaïs Nin
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
poems...
And please, visit your English friend Old-woman, she's back in a new decor...
that's all for Today, see you next next week my friends !...
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