Dreams are made of strings of liberation... They coil around ye not to bind ye but to free ye...
Dreams are like dew drops...their impermanence conceives despondence but their freshness and beauty bathes us in ecstasy... And in that moment of pleasure who cares about the sun finally gulping them away..?
Dreams are like dew drops...their impermanence conceives despondence but their freshness and beauty bathes us in ecstasy... And in that moment of pleasure who cares about the sun finally gulping them away..?
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