Running Amok…

like this. The past three years, I’ve sprinted past the Caravaggios, Manets, Hicks’, Sargeants and Murakamis with no second thought. Exhilaration runs through me; I am ready for whatever next challenge that is to come.

But I’m beginning to realize only the very bare minimum of what moving on entails. And I think it’s time for me to sit at his feet and rest my all

in a field of flowers.

“What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.”

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