(Source: durianseeds, via anotherbeautifuldreamer-deactiv)
A letter is all it takes to bring me back to where it all began. I can’t help but to wonder why I wasn’t worth for you to tell the truth. Even a stranger knew what you were doing but I was too weak to let you stop hurting me; and even though now it’s nothing but a memory yet I am in so much pain that my heart cannot grief with tears.
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
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