2 years later, I became acquainted with the sea. The direction of forward holds little truth. As we pass by those who are moving forward too. My boat and I are only faced towards the open sea. Where our sights are set no matter the setbacks. Nothing could be as bad as to restart your tracks.
2 years later, I became acquainted with the sea. 
The direction of forward holds little truth. As we pass by those who are moving forward too.
My boat and I are only faced towards the open sea.
Where our sights are set no matter the setbacks. Nothing c... poetry stories
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bebawolf
bebawolf Journal entries from 1/19/19 ▫️◽◻💠◼◾▪
Autoplay OFF   •   5 days ago
2 years after past paradise

2 years later, I became acquainted with the sea. The direction of forward holds little truth. As we pass by those who are moving forward too. My boat and I are only faced towards the open sea. Where our sights are set no matter the setbacks. Nothing could be as bad as to restart your tracks.

From where I once was to where I am now. Are worlds away. Floating along casually with the steady stream. Wishing for the need of "easy" is now just a silly dream. 2 years later, I learned to adjust against any wind to tip me over. Any wave to crash me down. Any stillness to keep me around. 2 years later, I became acquainted with the sea. 2 years later, I'm moving freely.

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