December 04, 2004


extracted from Mel's blog

At a certain age,no matter who it was,people had baggage and wounds and scars and lives that had hurt or sometimes even broken them. The pattern of scars on anyone's soul determined who they were.Sometimes it enriched the spirit, and sometimes broke it.The secret of life seemed to be surviving the damage, and wearing the scars well.But in Reality, no heart went unscathed.Life itself was all too real.And in order to love someone,whether lover or friend,one had no choice but to be real...

end of extraction

mada . 1:10 AM . mada   0 comments

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