Secret thoughts of dreaming minds


What is beauty really? Why do we breathe, speak and live? When the beauty of one surrounds us? When one knows what is and what was? How we can believe in a concept innumerable as the stars?

So we wander and stare at something incomprehensible in a vast universe of brightness.


We stare and conquer beauty in the name of something misunderstood and distraught, perhaps we are that exactly, dominating in the absence of true beauty.


Perhaps we strive for something we cannot understand or comprehend?


Perhaps in the end we are beauty…


Perhaps in the end we just don’t know it….

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