I wonder how many tears the ocean has swallowed, how much of the ocean is actually made of tears.

My dad always told me that holding a grudge is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die.

Morning tide makes a great companion when you don’t want to be around people. It soothes and comforts and doesn't ask for anything. But the sun does. The higher it gets, the more I am reminded that nothing stops time. There is no escaping it.

I wonder how many tears the ocean has swallowed, how much of the ocean is actually made of tears.

Sure, I’m gray-shading the line that separates stable and crazy, but the point is, there is a line. And I haven’t completely crossed over to lunatic.

I assume these structures are made for siting?