I believe we write our own stories. And each time we think we know the end - we don't. Perhaps luck exists somewhere between the world of planning, the world of chance, and in peace that comes from knowing that you just can't know it all. You know, life's funny that way. Once you let go of the wheel, you might end up right where you belong.
As the ussual this is me, leting it out...
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
“Para Adán, el paraíso era donde estaba Eva.” — Mark Twain
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