I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.
― Hafiz of Shiraz
what is the weight of the things we value? are they tangible or ethereal? do they add to a feeling of fatigue from carrying them or are they so light they appear translucent, speaking in warm rays through your skin? do we treat these things with reverence, stringing them up in our hearts like a garland of paper stars or are they scuffed and marked from neglect? how heavy are your friendships and do they sustain you? if they don’t sustain you, why do you carry them with you? more importantly, how far down the list of things you value do you place yourself? do you think about that? how heavy is it to carry the love for yourself?