“I cried today and I cried yesterday, Salty tears rushing down. My face fastened breaths, palms in sweat and the unbearable guilt of my being.”

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

And when I was looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that beneath these scars lies a woman, that is good that is kind, that I myself aspired to be.

Carrying the weight of my mistakes I burst into flames that hurt my skin.

A sense of calmness in this chaotic world somehow soothes me.

Would you want to breathe if you were to ask for oxygen? Would you want to drink if you were to beg for a glass of water? would you want to eat if you were to pray for a plate of food? Well, I wouldn’t.

I can truly see myself in that light, the green iris of my eye like a jungle, full of life. And when snow covers the green, and my skin looses its color I crave that wilderness in my eye.

I believed less is what I needed, what I tried to achieve; I thought less is more, better, the minimalistic beauty of life.

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

The beautiful repose of the night its silence and mystery contrasts the commotion of my soul.

Oh, how I wish you were here bathing in the silky sheets of my dreams, your lips on mine a flame and wine smoke in the air clouds filled with thoughts oh, how I long for your skin and touch.

When the grass turns brown nobody seems to care. It’s just temporary, they say yet I can feel it will stay and stay.

From time to time, I would like to cut off all the strings and lines that conclude that ridiculous puppet show they call life.

I cried and cried and cried having Realized that the beauty of my soul was being neglected by nobody else but myself.

And I try, I so try to fit everywhere, with everyone to be neutral, to be good and with all that, I lose myself. I lose the truest layer of all.

I feel all that, your touch your presence your breath but can’t tell if its you I’m looking at.

Yet now as we grow older why must we be frightened of being tranquil?

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou – Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

In the cold I centre myself and my breathing to transfer all my heat into the centre of my body.

Sometimes when I think how good my book can be, I can hardly breathe.

I have to remind myself to breathe — almost to remind my heart to beat!

Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.

Deep breathing changes the chemistry of the body by bringing oxygen into the tissue.

And in this moment, like a swift intake of breath, the rain came.

Breathing exercises produce brain waves.