For everything sacred has the substance of dreams and memories, and so we experience the miracle of what is separated from us by time or distance suddenly being made tangible. Dreams, memories, the sacred- they are all alike in that they are beyond our grasp. Once we are even marginally separated from what we can touch, the object is sanctified; it acquires the beauty of the unattainable, the quality of the miraculous. Everything, really, has the quality of sacredness, but we can desecrate it at a touch. -Spring Snow

A Typical Libra Girl~~~

"When I put on a raincoat, I put on sunglasses too. Who knows when it will rain, or when it will turn out sunny?" Short fiction inspired by real photos and vice-versa. Life is usually boring, but there are always servings of exclamations and questions once in a while.

Fuck I'm Dead