The trouble with imagined memories is that they go undetected as made up and instead we unconsciously ink them in as the truth. My open arms don't disclose that losing the confined feeling can be done right here.

The toast satisfies the daily dose of the medicine de la appreciatio. It's a feeling we won't relinquish that seems intensified if your frame is bent. Getting around is a reminder that time is just borrowed so extend it to the limit if there is one.

The Lew Ayers option is the buck twenty's worth of mind peace when we have to traverse the line of equanimity.