*multiplies you by 1*
Ach im the exact same but a process has occurred
I'm thinking about this post and i have decided that it is one of those things that is a poem in some undefinable way
They sit, the breeze bringing the chirps of birds, the ruffles of leaves, and the sways of grass.
They gaze outwards, the long blue sky bright and clear.
A ray of sun streaks, gracing their presence with its warmth, yet this one brings a thought, as it brushes along their nose.
I am me.
Are they? They look to the past - the pieces of themselves line up to say hello. They look to the future - the pieces still yet to be greet silently. They look to the present, their heart beating, their hair flowing.
"Ach, I am the exact same."
Everything is them, and everything is right.
A process has occurred, they know. And it seems to have done nothing... nothing at all...
But they know, they are all the more for it.


















