How should I put this, sometimes you hope it will stay the same as ever, promise yourself that you will keep to it, no matter what but it would just change somehow somewhat with the passing of time.

It is nice to have something to hold on to, like a promise, a belief. It feels like something, something like a glassball if I were to imagine it, fraglie yet so beautiful to hold onto. I hold them up to the sun and let the rays refract in them, look though them to see a different world, I would grow to love it so much because it has shown me so much. And maybe, at time goes by, I would grow so fond of the glassball that I would never want to let it go, hold it so tight and so close, and so afriad to loose it, but the harder you hold onto it the more pain you will feel when it finally breaks in your hand.

If I were to hold onto non from the begining of time, letting each glassball slip and fall through my hand, not grasping anyone of them, letting them shatter on the ground around my feet, I would never feel the pain of a glassball breaking in my hands, never witness the beauty of it and never know the fragility it. I would only be trapped by the shattered glass around my feet, feeling nothing, knowing nothing.