flipped through one of my favorite art books, filled with upscale commercial, abstract and portrait photography: single image: a zine of art and articles. i was nineteen when it was given to me. used to use it as a writing prompt, flipping through thick, glossy pages until random characters escaped from me. i hadn't seen it in years. pulled it down from the top of a closet, where remnants of memories rested undusted for ages. then it happened, a settle, happy chill. a smile. because bliss is beautiful even when brief. a part of me is reviving itself, because being at war is better than defeat. that know has always brought me it's own perfect piece of peace. and now, as i type this...i'm smiling again.