The beauty was nothing made sense. We were complex. We were intricate. We were designed with flaws which seemed to make everything perfect. But the defining word is seem. We don’t see what’s in front of us until it’s away from us. Until it’s behind us. Until it doesn’t bother us. Sometimes things aren’t perfect, yet they appear to be. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense until it does. But it always does.
Dominic Riccitello
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