To me. To the past, present and future me. To the little me: tiny blossom that clumsily and naively is growing her sprouts. Too shy to shine and too fragile…
To me. To the past, present and future me. To the little me: tiny blossom that clumsily and naively is growing her sprouts. Too shy to shine and too fragile…
…I’m asking you to be a child again. Without expectation, without purpose, totally useless because not everything needs a purpose… or at least not for now, and afterwards you will…