Others don’t hear it and they’ll call me crazy, but I hear peace in the sunset, and feel no loneliness in the forest. The trees all speak to those who listen. They scream submission and strength all at once. When commanded to stand, they stand tall. Nothing can shake them. When commanded to bow down, they bow, broken, but not dead. Humble strength.
When told to die, they die. They die orange, red and yellow. Even their death is beautiful.
So beautiful.
I want to die like them: giving color to the world as I leave.
Because we all leave.
Every moment we are leaving. The question is not whether we leave, the question is *how* we leave.
When the tree is called back. It rises again.
Reborn

Marry your best friend. I do not say that lightly. Really, truly find the strongest, happiest friendship in the person you fall in love with. Someone who speaks highly of you. Someone you can laugh with. The kind of laughs that make your belly ache, and your nose snort. The embarrassing, earnest, healing kind of laughs. Wit is important. Life is too short not to love someone who lets you be a fool with them. Make sure they are somebody who lets you cry, too. Despair will come. Find someone that you want to be there with you through those times. Most importantly, marry the one that makes passion, love, and madness combine and course through you. A love that will never dilute - even when the waters get deep, and dark.

We are the generation of nostalgia. We grew up in the age of transition. From hand-written letters to electronic mails. From film to digital. We were fascinated by new things, neglecting the way we spend our afternoons. Cupcakes and tea. Play-Doh and Polly Pockets. Young and naive. Technology completely changed the way we waited and we grew up too fast. The simple things in life seems more meaningful now. We grew up in the age of transition and have become the generation of nostalgia.