learn to fly, show the world how you try, but don't let go until you know me.

I love sunsets.

In sadness, in happiness. The beginning, end of a year. The middle. When I've barely awaken, when I'm almost retiring to bed. On my own, with others. With others next to me, with others in my memories.

Today's sunset will be unlike yesterday's, nor tomorrow's. I will see what is there, I will see what is not. What is essential is invisible for the eyes, one must see clearly with the heart.

I haven't a heart. May I use my soul?

I love sunsets and I love sunrises. I love the fresh beginnings and the bitter ends. If sunsets shall symbolise sadness, would sunrises represent happiness? Hope? The dark tints of oranges breaking from the midnight blue are not enough to slip through the folds of my mind, not today. Neither is the chemistry that made up the chardonnay stagnant in my glass.

But I do love sunsets and sunrises all the same. There is rarely any red in them. Pink, orange, yellow, purple, lavender, blue, white, black. But rarely red. There is rarely meanness, anger.

I will not wear red today. I will not wear blue today. I will wear yellow today.

Daybreak. Freshness.

Though first attempts are rarely successful.