The best things, they cant be captured. To try is fleeting. They flutter around like butterflies, here one minute gone the next. An ever elusive bunch of things. And when we grasp for them, we miss.
Still, the brain struggles to catch moments, to hold them like hostages in memory and describe them later with words.
But this is what we have hearts for. Our hearts get it. Our hearts know that the best things, can’t be described with mere words. They must be felt. Our hearts know that these things weren’t meant to be captured or even understood, only appreciated.
Excellente Whitney
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