Isn't it strange how sometimes the future is shown within tiny things? It's strange to realize that hey, I knew this, somehow, in a tiny way. It's just another part of the little miracles that we see, that we love, that we know. Sometimes we hate them. Whoever said a miracle was good?
But there is something powerful within each miracle. They define us; no, we define us and they just guide us along. We will stumble. We will full. Life is a crash-course of experiences we've been thrown into, without warning. So maybe we just need to KEEP BREATHING.
We are we. Imperfect, selfish, but there is a light of hope.
Our simple, special, important, little everyday miracles.
Will things ever get better?
Maybe someday, but that's up to us.
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