I am burning with fever; will writing of my sorrows, my sufferings, my pain, my despairs of yesterday, cure my ill? No, it is enough that once I lived and experienced them, almost to death, I see now no healing quality in their reliving. Instead I must leave them dead memories buried and forgotten, but still present in the shaping of what I am today. Yes, better now to concentrate my intentions, my perspectives this moment and all moments to come on spreading an epidemic of LOVE, happiness, joy, peace and living; think of it an infection that heals all life, rather than steals...
Truly LOVE sick I am...
just LOVE...
Kip Baldwin
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"Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food." ~ Austin O'Malley
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