I'm falling behind and I fear that this is not just a rough patch but it is slowly turning into... life.
What if this is what my life will be like? Always running, always without breath, without rest nor comfort. Often feeling like I'm misplaced; wishing to go back in time and start again, knowing I'd die if I had to do it all over again; scared of what will come my way, afraid nothing will come my way.

Only nature can heal me. Only sunsets, beaches and seas, forests and flowers, streams and glades.
Their Beauty is comfort.

I wish to be a tree and just exist, breathing in and breathing out, without worries.

Only art can comfort me. Only music, photographs and films, paintings and poems, sculptures and architectures.
Their Beauty is healing.

Beauty is timeless. Beauty is the only thing worth fighting for; Beauty — and Truth.