try to remember...

Do you ever remember?

Now you're so far away

Things that we used to laugh about

Crazy things we'd say

There were so many May times

When every word was a song

There were so many gay times

Before it all went all so wrong

But time is ever a vagabond

Time was always a thief

Time can steal away happiness

But time can take away grief

So I won't try to remember

For that way leads to regret

Though I will try to remember

What I can never forget

zee...

zaterdag 23/3 - Oostduinkerke - 0°C - een bitterkoud maar heerlijk wandelingske

zonder voorwaarden...

Je goed voelen bij iemand is zonder voorwaarden jezelf mogen zijn. Inge, Antwerpen

it's okay...

It’s okay to rest. To put down the pen, the book, the planner, the constant desire to find value in the doing, and lie down for a moment.

It’s okay to acknowledge your fear of missing out, then shut the computer down anyway, knowing that you can’t catch it all.

It’s okay to stop listening to the whirl of the outside world and turn inward to the whispers of your soul. You know how much you need it, how the air clears and the dust settles when you do.

It’s okay to slow down, to find your own rhythm, to stop and touch stillness.

It’s more than okay. It’s when magic happens.

Alana Sheeren

' k vergeet-je-nietjes...

vandaag...

snow on snow on snow...

    

jarig...

winter-lente...

nooit is voor altijd...

Kristof Devos & Claudia Jong

mijn voorbesteld exemplaar, met een persoonlijke balpentekening...  ik ben er heel blij mee

------------------------------------------

poison & wine...

la serie dei numeri...

2:34   ia-la  Là-la-la  Là-la-la  Làaa !!!!   :-))

Unica è la morte, 
e due i buoi, 
e tre la parti, 
quattro le pietre, 
cinque le età 
e sei le erbe, 
sette sono i soli, 
sette le lune, 
otto sono i fuochi 
e nove le fanciulle, 
ma dieci i vascelli, 
undici i guerrieri, 
dodici i segni, 
dodici i mesi 

ein-de-lijk !!!

e i n - d e - l i j k   Z O N  !!!

too often times....

"Every man has his secret sorrows 

which the world knows not; 

and often times 

we call a man cold 

when he is only sad..."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow