"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
1 comment:
This is beautiful. Black is my favorite color. It feels warm and enveloping to me. Familiar. Protective. Yet at the same time full of mystery and secret wisdom.
What does it mean for you?
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