There Is So Much That Glows In

Our Instructors Do Not Understand How It Is. To Be Bound To Someone In Such A Way. They Are Too Old, Too Out Of Touch With Their Emotions. They No Longer Remember What It Is To Live And Breathe Within The World. They Think It Simple To Pit Any Two People Against Each Other. It Is Never Simple. The Other Person Becomes How You Define Your Life, How You Define Yourself. They Become As Necessary As Breathing. Then They Expect The Victor To Continue On Without That. It Would Be Like Pulling The Murray Twins Apart And Expecting Them To Be The Same. They Would Be Whole But Not Complete.

The Circus Arrives Without Warning. No Announcements Precede It. It Is Simply There, When Yesterday It Was Not. Within The Black-and-white Striped Canvas Tents Is An Utterly Unique Experience Full Of Breathtaking Amazements. It Is Called Le Cirque Des Rêves, And It Is Only Open At Night.

Unusual Yet Beautiful. Provocative While Remaining Elegant.

The Funeral Is A Quiet One, Despite The Number Of Mourners Present. There Are No Sobs Or Flailing Handkerchiefs. There Is A Smattering Of Color Amongst The Sea Of Traditional Black. Even The Light Rain Cannot Push It Down Into The Realms Of Despair. It Rests Instead In A Space Of Thoughtful Melancholy.

It's A Wonderful Sort Of Feeling When People Want To Spend More Time In A World You Created.