Simple goodness

Sometimes the thoughts race. They rampage through your mind, refusing to stop, refusing to breathe.
Questions question questions. The racetrack is an endless circle, never ending. No light at the end of the tunnel.

But then you find yourself sitting there.
Looking at an old fire place, framed by bookshelves of books.
Old books. Books that smell of the wisdom they contain.

You breathe in. breathe out.

The deep bass echoing in your earphones absorbs you, encompassing you, enveloping you and pushing out those racing thoughts.
You sit there.

You breathe in. breath out. It's all good.

Life is good.


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