Sun kissed

Sun kissed sand colored skin lay bare

A tapestry of eroticism glowing with desire

Seeping lascivious proclivities, whispering

Taunting, teasing the senses

Senses eager, expectant of warm firm strokes

Creating a hedonistic masterpiece

Textured moor of pleasure, moist

Anticipating deep exploration

Warm exhalation of ecstacy, energies dancing 

Willfully participating in forbidden debauchery

Ebbing and flowing, edging to the delirium of sensual crescendo

Waves, waves bathe sun kissed sand colored skin  

Indica

My lips warm, moist, meets your skin
Stoking the embers of your desire
Your essence fills my lungs
Permeating through my every fiber
Carrying me to a celestial plain
Waking my senses, elevating my mind
Body and soul connect
Your aromatic scent wafts about
Clinging, caressing my skin
Seeping through my pores
Sensations, electric
Excitedly calm, contemplative, expectant
Anticipating the elation, the crescendo
I inhale you, deeply, holding your scent
Savoring your essence,
Your taste on my lips
Exhale, slowly, float down to earth
Ecstasy, dissipating, sated 

Ceteris Paribus

Semi-permanence, or is it more permanence
Permanence in the nature of change,
Change being permanently constant
Less permanence, more change
Changing status, changing statuses
Whatsapp status, social media status, social status
Permanently changing, body goals, fitness goals, love goals
Relationship goals, life goals
Life goal's, post constantly semi-permanent

Just Another Story

They say the first step in addressing an addiction or moving past any problem is to first acknowledge and accept it; I have been in denial for a while I suppose, but every now and then you have these moments of clarity, my what the fuck moments, my Earl listen to the universe moment, my stop trying to go against the grain and prove everyone wrong moment. That moment came this morning on my balcony looking out to where that palwee tree use to be, and for a moment, I missed it - then my wife brought to my attention how she never noticed how tall the other trees actually were because the were short in comparison to the palwee tree. She highlighted that since the palwee tree had been cut down there had even been new leaves on the other trees. That right there was my moment of clarity, that ahha moment, that but why did you do that you idiot moment.

I can be quite stubborn, I really do like having things my way. I almost had a relapsed, but I kinda caught myself. I was better prepared to let go and walk away and accept that this is an addiction, an unhealthy addiction and my health is somewhat important to me, my mental and emotional health are paramount.  So this is my first step in my how many eth step program - I am sure it won't be easy, matters of the heart seldom are, but one must do what one must, self preservation is important. It was a good run, there are plenty take-aways from it, but I need to be away from it, let my palwee tree slowly fade from memory. It is what it is. Just another story.

The Palwee Tree

Moments of reflection, or life’s epiphanies can happen when we least expect it, in the strangest of circumstances. Mine happened yesterday while I watched my favorite mango tree being cut down. I marked this tree years ago to be cut, it was big, didn’t bear much fruit and what little fruit it did bear was out of my reach – and as if sensing it’s impending demise it made a turn for the best, bearing fruit with more frequency than any other tree around, mangoes were now on the lower branches within reach, like the tree found new life. I enjoyed reaping the harvest, taking photos of my harvest and posting them online for friends to see and envy my harvest.

But this tree had grown so big that it stifled the growth of every other tree around it, even fruit bearing trees that I had much preferred initially, but at the time it had not occurred to me that this one tree which I was reluctant to get rid of was the cause of the other trees not growing properly and not bearing any fruit. The trees in it's shadow all leaned away from it searching desperately for sunlight and space to grow. I watched as this tree I loved fell to the ground, loud crashing sound - you could almost hear it cry, every fiber of it's existence broken as it slowly collapsed, in that moment when it hit the ground I felt its pain, I felt my pain and it occurred to me what I felt had little to do with the tree. I prioritized my second favorite mango tree at the cost of my favorite mango tree and the other fruit trees around it - much like I neglected my first love for my second, blind to the effect it was having on them; in the scenario of the tree I don't know which tree I am, if I even was a tree; perhaps I was the man cutting down the tree, severing ties with my past - I'm not sure. 

In that moment yesterday that tree seemed a metaphor for my personal life for the last few years. The center of focus was the wrong place, the effects were felt by all, but I was oblivious as I got what I wanted and cared little for the blowback. As with every experience in my life I attempt to learn from them - this was indeed a hard lesson to learn. I have few regrets in my life, but this was definitely one of those regrets. Time to press forward; live laugh and love. 

Distractions

When we go through a break-up we often attempt to deal with the pain in many ways; the most common way it to ignore it; we find all things to occupy our time and mind, we get busy and "distracted" - but that is always, always short lived. Being distracted from the emotional torment of a break-up is akin to pretending to be an ostrich, if it sticks its head in the sand and doesn't see the threat it assumes the threat no longer exist. Distractions do not take the pain away, it just mask it for a short time - the minute the distraction is done everything comes surging back; you drink and lime and have a good time and if you consume enough liquor perhaps you forget, the opposite is just as true, the more liquor you consume the more the thought and feelings consume you. You bury yourself in work, your mind is fully engaged not time and space to let feelings of hurt, anger, disappointment and despair creep in, no time to think about your lost love - but you can only work so many hours, then you must get in your car, just you and the sound of the tire rolling by on the road and your thoughts, the minute it comes you try to push it back and it just pummels through. Distractions from the hurt you feel are the worst way to deal with a break-up; they only prolong the pain, they make you become distant and cold, build up walls, love a little less, live a little less - distractions are the breeding ground of fear to live laugh and love. 

Vacuous Statements

Women have truly been the bane of my existence; I have a perpetual love hate relationship with them – the love part being highly fueled by primal desire; the hate fueled by the fizzling of that desire. I have found over the years that most women should never be held to their word, although they may argue that at the time, in the moment they said what they meant, and meant what they said – but women are as predictable as the weather and vacillate with such frequency that it becomes dizzying.  And therein lies the problem, when one allows themselves to become emotionally invested in someone, and believes wholeheartedly their words, and turns a blind eye to their pattern of behaviour, ignores prior actions; invariably one sets up oneself for that earth shattering let down - love hate relationship. Words can be so flowery, sweet to the ear, because it is what you want to hear, perhaps even what you need to hear at the time, but as cliche as it sounds, actions truly do speak louder. Some years ago I wrote something to the effect that we don't always get what we want, but we always get what we need...even when we're blind to our own needs. Trust none of what they say, observe everything they do...give them just enough of you that it doesn't matter when they leave, because inevitably they all leave.

Alcatraz

To and fro the iron moved over the clothes; another Sunday getting ready to resume the week, back to the tedium of life, the weekly routine, my Alcatraz. In that moment I had a feeling of hopelessness, dread – returning to the place where I am unhappy for yet another week, doing the same thing over and over again; listening to the children, becoming increasingly annoyed with the very sound of their voices, the very thought of doing the weekly chores, to resume the weekly humdrum.

This can’t be life, there must be more to it than this, this is an existence – like dead fish floating down a stream. When did my life become this monotonous, like a song on repeat, a song you once loved and enjoyed, but it has played so often that you can no longer enjoy it, you don’t even hear it playing, it’s not even back ground noise, you become numb and deaf to the melody; aloof to what once brought you joy.

What the fuck is this?! I feel the need to escape, or risk losing my mind, I scream on the inside so loud that my voice is quickly fading to nothing. I am jaded. I want to run away from my life, but my life is no longer my own. I wish sometimes that I was as truly selfish as I have been accused of being; if I were, I would clean out my accounts and run away to nowhere, and everywhere, never look back. I would live. I hate that having these feelings of wanting to abandon everything makes me feel like a despicable human being, it fills me with a sense of guilt; but too much of this life makes me feel miserable, too many patches of happiness – like tatted clothing, little semblance of what originally existed.

I need help to find my way back. I don’t know where to start, I don’t know if I can do it on my own, but I don’t feel that I should burden anyone with how I feel. It’s foolish to think that I am the only one feeling this way, but in the same vein it is troubling to think that I am not the only one feeling this way. 

Living to a ripe old age can not be the sum total of ones life, that can not be your life's greatest achievement. 

Words are Powerful

In the past three days I have directly and indirectly experienced how the words people speak to others can adversely affect a person's mood; their state of mind and how they interact with the people around them. While this is not the first time I have seen the power of words on people, myself included, this week it was more acute, I was more aware - I suppose mainly because I have over the last few weeks making a more concerted effort to be more mindful of how fragile life is, and not waste precious time on the innocuous. 

One of the situations reminded me of a conversation with my sensei; it's interesting how hurtful words not spoken directly to us, or at us, still affects us - it's interesting what and who we give power over us. We may repeat the affirmation that the only person we can control is us, and therefore the only person we have power over is ourselves - but it doesn't always play out like that. I am trying to find myself in a better and different mental space, where I not only say that I appreciate life and how fleeting it is but I actually act on it, and make the best of the good moments, spend more quality time with the people who matter, the people who will miss me when I'm gone. Having years of living in the moment, holding on to anger and many other negative feelings makes this journey a bit more challenging, but I think I am up to the task, after all in my 38 years on this earth I have redefined myself many times - and I will do it again.

Choose Positive

I woke this morning with the word consternation gnawing at my mind, I could not recall the meaning of the word, but somewhere in my subconscious mind I began to pen a poem rooted in this word. Letting my feet hit the floor, I reaches for my phone to search out the meaning of this word which greeted my mind on this beautiful Monday morning.

Consternation, a feeling of anxiety or dismay, that can not be what greetings me first thing in the AM, it can't be what I will write about, no, I refuse. There has been nothing but dismay for the last month, filled with sadness and ill feelings, no. I dictate the energy I put out into the universe and what energy returns to me, and I have no deliberate intention on putting that negative energy out there, no, not me, not today, hopefully not ever moving forward. I choose to send out positive, to hop over the ugly and deal with the unpleasantries of life from a positive space.

So, today I will take consternation flip in around and bring pure good vibes to my mental and emotional space, and I will share that positive energy with all I encounter today. Bless. Live Laugh Love. Cheers to Life.

Melodramatic

At this point I should not be amazed at the volatility of human beings, yet I remain dumbfound by our ability to turn on a dime, to move quickly through highs and lows, the cusp of emotional hilltops to the dunk depths of the murky valleys.

I suppose part of this can be attributable to our inherent disingenuous nature, our ability to harbour ill feelings about persons, sometimes those closest to us under the guise of less unsavory feelings.

In my last post I spoke of the brevity of life and the need to focus on the positive and move with haste past the innocuous and energy draining experiences. I have come to accept that many do appreciate the brevity of life, but as with anything else how they move forward with that appreciation, is based purely on their on perception of things - perception has no grey area, it's either from a place of positivity or negativity.

Needless to say, I still hold to my moment of clarity, life is way to short to dwell on the negative and have the thoughts, emotions and words of a few feel like an anchor around your neck. Live Laugh Love. Ever thankful. Cheers to Life

The Reaper

Death is the only fair part of life, it holds no favor for ones station in life, it cares not for your wealth, your power, beauty, youth, health - it cares for nothing. It comes at any given hour to welcome you with its cold embrace, taking you away from everything and everyone you have ever known - to some it is welcomed; a reprieve from pain, suffering, unhappiness; while to others it is rebuked with futility. Irrespective of how it is regarded it will knock on your door or kick down your door; it is unbiased and undeterred in its objective - one life equals one death; the universe demands balance.

100% Thankful

Interesting morning thus far, I've had a few deja vu moments for the morning, it has been a while I have not had one of those. Over the years I have learned to use these are my markers, my message from the universe telling me that hey, everything is going to be alright. These moments seem to come at times when I feel like things aren't going my way, or I am lost in my head, buried by my thoughts. It's interesting how we allow people and situation to dictate our emotional and mental states - when really and truly we're the only ones who control how we react to any given situation and any person whom we choose to enter our lives. I was really thankful for those deja vu moments this morning, because despite everything going on around me it placed a joy in my heart and a smile on my face. It will all be alright.  

Final Destination

Death has a way of bringing the brevity of life into sharp focus for those left behind in the wake of the passing of a loved one, family, friend and yes even acquaintance. It causes you a moments pause, to contemplate what really matters and the significance we place on the innocuous.

But just like life, these moments of profound introspection are fleeting, short lived; the lifespan inextricably tied to the life of the wave of emotions by which we're awashed having received the news of death. We ponder on the brevity of life, not so much the permanence of death, yet they are not mutually exclusive. Our moments of clarity fades quickly, dies a natural death, and rest in perfect peace, until it is resurrected by the next death.

We consume life in palatable pieces; death being that bitter entree, which taste we hasten to expel from our palate. But it remains a necessary evil, like work on a Monday, you don't wanna go through it but you must in order to get to the better days which lay ahead.

For us to truly become better human beings we need to treat our moments of clarity and introspection with the same permanence of death, rather than the fleeting brevity of life.

Meandering

There is no mold for the human condition, of the billions of people on earth you will be hard pressed to find two persons who are similar in every respect. Yet as part of the human condition we accept certain inalienable truths, certain behavioral parameters – and we accept standards for ourselves and others. One of our failings as is just that, the notion that we should all think, feel and act the same way in every given situation, like there is an unwritten rule that “this is what a good human should do, should feel, should say…” But nothing is further from the truth.

Invariably our difficulty with other humans is that they are not just like us; while we say we accept people’s differences that is not truly the case – acceptance is void of judgment; we merely tolerate opposing views. We struggle with empathy, and that is understandable as it is difficult to empathize something which is obscure to you. Human emotion is fluid, the fluidity of which is rooted in personal experience – sometimes emotions are bartered for human logic and rational; emotion and logic are incongruent at worst, strange bedfellows at best.

What does all this meandering mean? To be honest I am not quite certain, suffice to say that I have accepted, or perhaps not – perhaps I am tolerating the fact that the human condition is wonderful complex; and its complexity contributes to the lovely tapestry of human beings.

Inebirated Imperative

He stumbled to the door in the early hours of the morning, inebriated, eyes half opened, fumbling with the keys as he attempt to unlock the door; the chill of the morning air piercing his skin. Staggering into the dark room, his hands searched for the light switch - as he flicked on the incandescent light he caught his reflection in the mirror - clothes tarted and stained, eyes narrowed and blood shot. He laboured to peel off the remains of his clothing, tossing them away in the bin - he climbed into the bathroom turning on the hot water first, then the cold, this was just what the doctor ordered, a nice warm shower then tuck himself away in bed. It had been a long night of drinking and partying, he was ready to call it quits.

As he toweled off, he heard a stir coming from the room, in his more than intoxicated stated he never turned on the bedroom light as he normally did - there it was again, like someone stirring on the bed. But he had no recollection of coming in with anyone, so this seemed odd. He motioned his hand round the wall, to the light switch, his head slowly following, he was not in the mental state for antics of bravery. He peered round the wall as the room became illuminated - and much to his pleasant surprise, in the full splendor of her nudity lay his lady - on her stomach one legs splayed, ass cocked up. Her eyes opened slightly, almost painfully, disturbed by the light, she barely parted her lips to get the words out, "hey baby"

What a lovely surprise he thought, perfect end to an already awesome night. He climbed onto the bed, it creaked beneath his weight, crawled up between her legs, placed his hands besides her and leaned down to kiss her as she twisted her torso slightly up towards him - his damp chest pressing against her warm back, he kissed her hungrily; alcohol consumption had a way of making him ravenous. He pulled away from her lips and placed his palms squarely on her ass - full firm shapely ass, those squats had paid off handsomely; he massaged her ass deeply, thumbing her asshole and he pussy intermittently; she moaned slightly and gyrated her hip, her sounds aroused him - his penis engorged, the erection painful, begging for a respite.

Alcohol always seemed to free him from the burden of inhibitions, the sexual shackles; it was often anything goes flight of fancy fuck sessions when his mind was freed from the burden of care and concern. He reached for a bottle of baby oil near by and began to pour it over her ass. The oil covered her ass making her skin glimmer in the light as it ran down her ass crack onto her vagina - he rubbed it in with one hand as he continued to pour the oil over her ass. "Baby" she called out to him - seemingly returning from a daze he paused, placed the oil down, and returned to massaging her ass, his hands now gliding over her ass lubricated by the oil felt more erotic. As his hand slide over her ass he slid his thumb into her butt, she was momentarily stunned, but pleasantly surprised and pushed her ass back on his thumb; as he continued to thumb her asshole he slid two fingers into her vagina, she moaned in pleasure - this impromptu lubricant just heightened the experience and he with little thought slid a third finger in, and she bucked.

As his left hand probed into her ass and cunt he took his cock in his right hand, hard, throbbing, he stroked his cock, feeling every vein filled with blood, pumping like it had its own pulse. He removed his hands from her and grabbed hold of her hips and cocked her ass up towards him - he placed his left leg over her left leg, his right leg remaining behind her, as he straddled her sideways, guiding  his rock hard cock into her vagina sinking it deep. Her lips parted, but no words, no sound escaped her mouth - her back ached as she pushed back onto his cock and he gripped her firmly as he tried to send his cock deeper still in her pussy. His strokes were vigorous - the alcohol coursing through his veins possessing him, beckoning him to fuck her hard, to pound away at her pussy till she came and came and came and beg for clemency from his throbbing cock. As his cock pile drived into her pussy her moans grew louder, her pussy creamed, thick white cream covering his cock - "baby, what the fuck?" she said but those words escaped his ears as he slammed his hip into her ass, his cock disappearing deep into her - his cock crashing against her inner walls her ecstasy crescendoed, and in waves she began to cum - "baby, baby, fuck or fuck baby..." the first wave of cum was followed swiftly by the second and third and forth; her body bucked, her legs trembled. He pulled his cock out, spat on her ass crack, as his saliva slid down to her asshole, he stopped it with the tip of his cock - the oil and spit mixed making a lovely mess sliding over his cock head; he used it as lubricant to penetrate her asshole - he got the entire head into her slippery asshole then withdrew it. "Oh god baby, you trying to kill me tonight" she muttered. He squatted over her and took his cock in hand and guided it back to her ass once again. Slowly, he slid the head of his cock in, inch by inch it disappeared into her ass until he was balls deep in her tight round ass.

The strokes were gentler in her ass, just the right mix of pleasure and pain as his cock emerged from her ass and vanished repeatedly, "fuck baby am I suppose to be enjoying you fucking my ass like this" "you're suppose to enjoy my cock any way I give it to you" He removed his cock from her ass and hopped off the bed making his way to the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, sweat running down his chiseled body, a beastly look about his face. He washed her off his cock before he returned for a second helping of her delicious body.  "Come suck my cock" she loved sucking his dick and she knew just how he liked it, nice and sloppy, nasty and  with sound effects - the moans, the slurping, it excited him. She spat of his cock and sucked it back up, took as much of it into her mouth as she could and let some of her saliva dribble off his shaft. He took her off his cock and thrust her down to the bed. " Spread those legs open for me baby" he climbed between her legs, placing them on his shoulders and raising her ass slightly up off the bed - "take that cock and put it in your pussy baby" His cock sunk quickly into her pussy aided by her saliva lubricant - he was balls deep once again in her mound. "Oh god baby" He was in no mood for slow gentle love making tonight, he wanted to fuck, he need her pussy like a hungry man needed food and he went at it with the same voracity, he pummeled her pussy with intent. He knew fucking her with such intensity made her cum frequently and he was in desperate need of his own explosion, he wanted to feel his cum rocket out of his cock and spray her inner wall.

He stroked her deep and hard, their bodies glistening with sweat, beads of sweat bouncing off their bodies as his hip slammed into hers, his cock disappearing into her pussy. His body began to tense at the cusp of his climax, his thrust became deeper, harder, faster - " oh fuck" his body began to quiver, his teeth clenched, as he fucked her harder she grabbed hold of his ass sinking her nails into his butt cheeks as she pulled him deeper into her. "Motherfucker" those words jumped out of his mouth, much to his shock - "baby, fuck, fuck, baby I'm cumming baby I'm cumming" His words excited her, "yes, cum for me baby hmmmmrrrmmm" The veins of her neck tense as she moaned, he felt her grip tighten, the walls of her pussy closed around his cock. " Fuck baby, baby baby...aaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh" His cum shot from his cock, his balls tensed up and shrank, as he ejaculated his load into her she let off a loud moan and dug her fingers deep into his ass as she came with him. Her grip released and his body dropped onto her - all his energy drained from him. He rolled over to her side, she turned towards him, kissed him, put her arms around him and laid there sated, spent, his cum slowly rolling out of her pussy, his cock covered in her cum. "That was fucking awesome"

Press Reset

Every time I attempt to get my mind to focus it gets lost in this fog, this unyielding, unrelenting fog that is clouding my mind. I am unable to maintain a thought for more than a few seconds - this ominous feeling is crippling my ability to function; that I am able to string together these words is a bit of a relief. Perhaps this is just what I need. A distraction, something to take my mind of the uncertainty of what lurks around the corner, maybe I am overthinking this, maybe I am allowing myself to be drawn into the negative energy, maybe this is my test - if it is I am not off to a good start. It's amazing how things can change in a moment. Control what you can, forget the rest - I need to repeat this a few times; the only person you have control over is yourself; you choose how you react to situations. Press reset, unclog your mind.  

Addiction

This post will be brief. You know how these thoughts work, like links in a chain one connected to another, connect to another till you reach the end of the chain of thoughts which by that time seem so obscure from the first thought. I had this not so random thought, birthed by a light-hearted conversation which shortly wasn't so light-hearted. 

The random thought lead me to ponder on whether there was a distinction between Physical Attraction and Sexual Attraction; and since the world wide web is so filled with content I let my fingers do the typing - and what do you know, I was not far of base with my thinking on the two. My limited research confirmed that one can be physically attracted to a person and not necessarily be sexually attracted to that person - but often times physical attractiveness is linked to sexual attractiveness. 

Suffice to say there are many, many women whom are physically attractive, whom I find physically attractive - but that is distinct from finding them sexually attractive. So yeah, I may see that body, or stunning facial features, do a double take, or even forget blurt out something as evidence of my obvious dumbfoundedness (yes yes, I made up a word) of the sheer beauty which I behold; but that does not mean she gets my juices flowing enough to want to hump. However, it is safe to say there are less than a handful of women who are sexually attractive to me - that the sheer thought of them increases my blood flow in all regions of my body; whom I want to fill with my bodily fluid till there is none left, then proceed to run on empty - until the thought of an erection hurts. To me part of sexual attraction is that it is insatiable, no matter how much of that person you get, it is never enough, I suppose on can argue that this thinking borders on an addiction; but maybe not all addictions are bad for you. 

Ducking...

So I committed to resuming blogging, but for the longest time I have mainly turned to blogging in time of unhappiness; with sprinkles of eroticism - however, on this occasion it is neither, this is just because I said I would resume blogging, so this one will be random as fuck.

So here I am, yes, by now you should realize I use 'so' as a filler a lot - where was I, so here I am wet overcast Tuesday morning the week before carnival sitting at my office when all I want to do is be liming somewhere with a drink and talking a whole lot of shit. The songs 'Ducking' by Fadda Fox and 'Calling in Sick' by King Bubba comes to mind at this point. I can almost taste the whiskey on my tongue, swirling about my mouth, the sweetness of the barley dancing on my pallet as it rolls down my throat, smooth, the inaugural heat opening the chest. Ah yes, the devil's nectar, liquid courage, truth serum - it's been called many names, but it always answers; many a good night as well as many a bad night has had its genesis in one sip.

What the hell am I doing here, really, what? I need to take my ass home, I need to laze about do nothing, drink, curry goat, grill pork and have a drink of Hennessy, Scotch, Patron - sing my favorite soca songs as loud as I can with my eyes closed and head to the sky; whine my waist, run around the place like an idiot; talk plenty shit with my team...In the words of King Bubba ...'ah calling in sick dis is too much vibes to miss mi doctor dun tell mi dis rum is mi only medicine...' Yep! This is pretty much how I feel right about now. God damn it! Who starts a new job in February? Me. I had not thought about carnival, it was not my main concern at the time - I needed to change jobs before I lost my mind, so I did.

Alas, I am here torturing myself, looking at the clock, counting down the hours till I leave the office and have me that first shot of coffee Patron, followed on swiftly by a glass of Hennessy Black which I am going to take my time with - I will caress the glass like the curves of her body and take that glass to my lips like that first kiss after missing it for so long; then I'm gonna do it all over again as many times as I possibly can well into the wee hours of the morning.

Yep. Tonight is our second annual Top Shelf Tuesday and it is going to be fucking EPIC.

Moments

We take for granted fleeting moments which rapidly become fleeting years

Years which fade away while we look back with regret

Caught in a memory of a moment of hurt, that moment takes root, grows into anger

Anger dampens the spirit, darkens the soul, leaving in its wake an emotional carcass

When that moment has trickled through the hourglass of time, bitterness lingers

A fleeting moment of melancholy, spirals rapidly into protracted moments of depression

Wasted moments, we allow only to pilfer our much deserved moments of joy

Be wary of the moments you allow to take root in the nursery of your mind, in the soil of your emotions

Even bad things grow