Love is the grace that gives me the power to believe I have one more chance to fly. Lift, big guy, lift! As I fly, the highest mountains are not hard to move. The moon is white. Or is it? And is the sun blue or yellow? Do our eyes see what we are told or do we decide to see what we want to? Do we have two or three eyes?
My thoughts are above. But my actions are at war with my thoughts. How is that possible? Troubles come from actions, my thoughts are different from my actions. And it’s so amazing to me how the human brain works. Where do these thoughts come from? Why do my actions contradict my thoughts? The two are at
