There is something… a beauty in everything. Everything you see. Everything you touch. Everything hear. Everything you smell. Everything you taste. Everything you feel. There is something wrong with this image that you see everyday. Portraying in a picture box you called televisions, lies being fed to you, and the truth hidden. What was it that was once called freedom. The freedom to live, the freedom to run, sleep, love, fight for what you believe in, cry, shout, and die. Are no longer what you think they are. They are stripped from you like the layers of clothes you wear, when you walk in the night and a beast appears from the shadows. Then violates your body with the tarnishing of his soul tearing bit by bit of the corners of your sanity. Dragging you away by the soles of your feet. Where are you now? Be not afraid. Survive and Live. Love with all your might, but live with all the passion inside your soul, grow a bed of flowers and lay in it when springtime comes. But mourn not when the winter has made the garden wither away in the cold bitterness of the winter solstice. Take a pot, take seeds and plant them. Love them. Care for them. As if it was your very own offspring. Love with all your heart, with all the passion of a fire burning in the night. Something over anything in the dark layers of the night but the beauty of love furnishing and recreating itself once more.