I like being invisible.
Without wanting to get ahead of myself, I think that all the best things are.
Love, warmth, inspiration, contentment and that sense of inner peace deep inside of you. All the things we feel are invisible, even the things we think we see. Like midnights and 2 a.m.s that make the world seem larger and more infinite than it is—they are feelings and not merely moments.
Then there’s the wind, and even beauty. I do not need to see something for it to be beautiful. So long as I can feel it, not with my hands, but with this old, eternal truth that twists inside of me, it can be as beautiful as a million colours. It is why as I wander to the heart of Nature, I feel as much of an urge to let my eyes roam everywhere and drink up the scenery as I feel the urge to let my eyes close, and to let my truth speak to Nature’s truth instead. You know, a little boy once said that one can only see rightly with the heart, that what is essential is invisible to the eye, and I very much wish to believe that.