an excerpt from my journal.
This is why dreams are so beautiful. Because they are powerful. They are spiritual. They mean something. What can God do with real power? Anything.
You know those days that are so absolutely amazing and fantastically fun that you can't help but smile thinking about? The feelings that stir up when you look through old pictures as you relive memories... Those are all familiar. What about the sadness that settles in when you think about how the day is done? Passed? Finished? Yes, it was amazing, but why can it not go on forever?