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We are the blank pages of a great book, filling up day by day with the ink of our experiences. Each breath writes verses in this immeasurable volume.
Some pages overflow with sublime poetry, magical moments captured with love. Others pour out dramatic lines of regret, chapters we would have preferred to omit. But all, without exception, weave the intricate fabric of our being.
We tear out pages, erase sentences and rewrite our story with renewed hope. We recall happy passages again and again, underlining the verses that caress the soul.
There are also pages soaked in dried tears, lines twisted by the impact of misfortune. They hurt, but they remind us how fragile joy is. They make us cherish the blissful moments with greater devotion.
We write endlessly in this huge book that is existence. Adventures, dreams, sorrows and joys intermingle in a melting pot of infinite emotions. We capture each breath on new pages, treasuring the hope that at the end, when we close the cover, we will find the fullness of having lived a great story.