What we want is never simple.

We move among the things we thought we wanted:

a face, a room, an open book and these things bear our names, now they want us.

But what we want appears in dreams, wearing disguises.

We fall past, holding out our arms and in the morning our arms ache.

We don’t remember the dream, but the dream remembers us.

It is there all day as an animal is there under the table, as the stars are there even in full sun.

Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.

— Carl Jung


Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)