to a writer, for the moments

{my writing space}

for the moments when your words are few

run your fingers over the words you already have

for the moments when your words are flowing

let them pour hydration over your soul like ocean waves 

for the moments when you are broken down

carefully grasp the pieces and tuck them away

for the moments when holiness feels close, so close

reach out your fingers and accept the permission to touch the Word made Flesh. 

for the moments when you feel deflated

open your lungs and remember what oxygen tastes like. 

for the moments when you feel like dancing

spit out the fear and let your hips and soul move like one

for the moments when you feel like your flame is guttering

reach in the fire and remember what makes you burn.

feel the rumble in your bones. rise up, holy twigs animated by Glory and soul and oxygen. you have breath in you, even when it feels twisted out.

rise up, bones and skin and pumping blood and unseen glowing soul. you are aching and sore because you are working further up and further in. keep on. feel the rumble.

:: you are nearly there.

soul-gasp :: knowing Aslan

{via pinterest}

{over the next several weeks, maybe even months, i will be writing here and there from elora's thirty days of prompts. this is something that i have never done before, something raw and fresh and gorgeous and potentially painful. so please, be gentle with me. you can find all posts i have written from these prompts here}

:: what words make you gasp with the wonder of it all?

these words have been ringing in my head since the moment i read this prompt :: i'm going to live like a Narnian, even if there isn't any Narnia. and maybe it's a strange thing to associate with this particular prompt, but i couldn't help it. for you see, i've been brushing against this gasp-educing reality my entire life.  

for me, it's like that moment when they are gathered on the beach, breath bated and eyes wide, that first moment when they see over the wave. that moment when they catch their very first glimpse of Aslan's country. and oh, the hunger that is lit in their souls, even though they may not have understood it yet. 

// did they know they would end up there, one day, forever?

did they know they had just touched the sky?

elora's first words in the prompt were these :: what would happen if you wrote down everything -- every word, every syllable, every image -- that reminds you of the soul-splitting ecstasy of colliding with your purpose? and honestly, my very first memory of this soul-splitting gasp was the first time i met Aslan.

i've met Him a thousand times since then, even as i grew up and began to know Him by that other Name. and each time His roar has whispered Life into my soul, i knew instantly. and as i have dug deeper into the life-humming earth, still rich with His song steeped into its very essence, i have uncovered this strange beautiful wellspring...the one that hums warrioress, the one that murmurs braveheart lioness, joy shall be yours. 

{photo property of dramaticelegance}

and i feel silly even admitting just how deep my love for this word-made land goes. but i remember the first time i felt my soul gasp and i never want to forget. i wanted to live under every patch of blue sky i found because He was there, and the thistles in the pasture were White Witch traps. and yes, i was teased until i cried for running to the edge of the dock and gazing over the water at age ten and whispering His name. 

:: Aslan

and i didn't gasp then. but i do now. because even then, i saw Him. and my soul raised its eyes and reach out for the Lion and buried its fingers in His mane. 

// oh, i am gasping. and my soul is bursting.

because i saw Him, and i know Him, this Lion. 

and i am writing down each gasp, even if i think that this world is dark and full of reaching out fingers for a candle that might just be pretending to be the sun.

but i am going to dance in the moonlight with the Song making waves through my hair. and i am going to live endlessly like a Narnian. 

revelation :: i am seeker

{via pinterest}

i've been pondering myself lately. and there's been a lot of poetry, and a lot of searching deep within myself, and such a journey to the mountain. and i found myself among the proverbial pine trees searching for the illusive spark.

and honestly, i'm terrified of this new place that He is calling me toward, stepping one toe in front of the other with my heart thudding louder than any tribal drum and the murmur of the Holy One at my ear

courage, dearheart

for I have overcome

because it was someone dear to my soul that chided all those months ago that not everything can be sacred, and i'm trying too hard to find something that isn't there, and what am i trying to prove anyway?

so it was with shaking trepidation that i found myself one week ago with fingers uncurled and eyes closed and breathing so deeply into my soul. i pressed my palms on the hardwood floor of the yoga studio and curled my toes on the mat and heard my heart whisper low, i am home here.

and i caught myself hesitating to open my heart and strike match to flint and touch flame to wick so that the warm Light beams through every corner, the way He-Who-Sees-Me does in that moment when the dark night of the soul threatens to swallow you whole.

i've written before about the Lion's song, the melodic mantra that blends with my heart's cry to form that strangest sweetest music. and He and i whisper it together under the moon, our own version of the precious breathing that leaves our lungs in a musical hum. it's an om of a different kind, His and mine, one we carved together out of crystals and tears and His own blood poured out when Death fell beneath His feet.

and even as they scorn, i'm putting down roots.

{photograph of myself, courtesy of  nikki jean photography}

:: because i don't want to lose the mystery 

that comes when One is Three, and to die is to Live, and how darkness melts like candle wax in the Light. and i am a seeker, captivated by the moon as she changes and finding myself moving with her in the oddest and most glorious of dances.

i'm not done yet, i am just beginning.

and i am seeker, journeyer, gypsy soul afire.

feather-haired braveheart, i am.
His lioness, i am.

I AM's, i am.

hush-holy ::

{via pinterest}

a phrase has been trapped in my mind for about a week now. two words strung together, innocently enough, make something soft and precious and so profound that it has woven itself into the very essence of me and is resting there.

hush-holy.
{phrase coined by rain}

there is sacredness nesting inside me now, building up and making something great and beautiful in a way that maybe i didn't understand before.

this word {YHWH} is the sound of breathing.

the holiest name in the world, the Name of Creator

 is the sound of your own breathing.

and so i sit and ponder in this time of spring, the epitome of hush-holy and silent glory and the majesty of life appearing in the gentlest of ways.

but there are storms, grey-skied things that sweep in with wind and rain and thunder and lightning. and oh, how the glory of God is found in this grand display. 

:: but then comes the calm.

and the wind and seas obey His voice. and all is still when He and i step back into the boat, and i find myself on my knees in the hush whispering, truly You are the Son of the Most High God. because His very breath is this thing swirling around me, even here on my yellow couch with Old McDonald as the soundtrack to this moment of worship. 

{via pinterest}

but in my head i'm singing soft words familiar to my tongue, words i have sang over and over in my soul from the first time i heard them. a tender melody found here in the hush-holy, in the calm draped over my shoulders like a warm blanket of Life from the fingers of the most loving Father.

oh the deep deep love of Jesus

vast, unmeasured, boundless, free

//

and it's not a solo, but a duet, because the Lion is singing soft in my ear, harmonizing in the most beautiful way, crooning, see, I am doing a new thing, all things made new. and the Song of the Lion has become the sweetest backdrop to arms outstretched and glory whispered from my mortal-turned-immortal lips. 

now you are a Lioness

and all...will be renewed.

{prince caspian, c.s. lewis}

finding the new {236-242}

i am barely here this morning. my precious notes of jubilation still remain, but they are clouded with exhaustion and a twisting, churning stomach that has yet to abate since close to 8:30 last night.

i knew this would be a side effect. it's the one everyone whispers about behind closed doors, the one they all ask me about, and the one i thought i was escaping.

but curled up in armchairs clutching a ceramic bowl before rushing to another wider bowl in another room...this has been my sleeping and my waking.

and my stomach is slowly fading in its clenching as sparkling water with hints of peaches and a lot of slow-moving rest are finally beginning to do their job.

i feel my blessings slowly changing in their style, but never fading in their sacred glory.

• 236. ginger ale and sparkling peach water

• 237. laundry already started and the strength to finish the chore

• 238. salsa chicken in the crockpot, one of the few things that appeal to my lurching tummy

• 239. the peace of resting soundly when sleep finally came

• 240. comfort in disappointment, rest in knowing that plans are held in a Lion's paw

• 241. encouraging notes from dear sisters and friends, knowing that other women have walked this road before, and have made their own paths of strength

• 242. being reminded that i am brave and warrioress even in the oddest of ways.

and so i'm resting now. 

i'm breathing slowly and feeling myself settle deeper into the comfort of warm quilts and steaming cups of tea. this cold winter does not touch me here, for i am warm and safe and healing deep within. 

blessings rise here. pregnant and barefoot in the sacred. 

plot-ish // writer's blog

i finally feel like i have a footing. it's taken me six months to come up with this concept.

i'm honestly not sure what took me quite so long to let loose and allow my inspiration to create this concept in my head.

i will admit, a very large portion of this came to me in the bathtub {of all places} on Friday night. i now hold fast to cucumber melon body wash, and the power of a relaxing soak.

{the remainder of this post, as well as a brief synposis of my NaNo novel, can be found here}

my own

{via pinterest}

there are plenty of mornings when i have no idea what to write about. it might just be one of the most frustrating things i have ever and will ever encounter in my life.

writing is my life. my pillow is words and my tongue is prose and my clothing is poetry and my blood is ink and inspiration.

and so when it is illusive, i feel as though i am missing. melting. a fog being sieved by the rocks and trees and mountains of this very real thing called life.

i look at this world and think

how can i not write? there is so much here. 


and in my dreams, inspiration comes. in those last moments before slumber overtakes, my mind is full to overflowing with this and that and so so so much richness that comes in the fog of dreaming while awake.

but then i awake, and i have lost it all.

inspiration is less frightening that i wish it was, i think.

 i wish i had a reason to be afraid of knowing this light. because there is power in this light, and it's my calling to bring it here.

His wish. 

share My words, dearheart. 

and it's frightening. because this is big.

i sit, quilts tangled and sunlight streaming. voices calling nonsense from the street below.

{via pinterest}

and i touch the play on my pandora and let the music envelop.

i let the phone ring, and press my best friend's voice to my ear as she spills life and pain and confusion and delights into my waiting soul...because she's good at that for me.

i soak myself in life. 

this melody of inspiration that never stop flowing, the one i just have to reach out and touch.

so i run fingers back through tangled locks

and smile.

i need Your grace

to remind me

to find my own.

{linking with laura -- this playdate with the King} 

morning honey

via {honey and jam}

sometimes, i don't know what to write about each morning

i wake up so inspired but there's just too much flowing from my head to my lips to my toes and back up again

i don't know where to put it all. 

it's mornings like this that i wish i was a photographer.

that i didn't have to pop around my pintrest or borrow from my sister's incredible photography to add the colour of my blog.

because i wish i could picture my inspiration in some way.

i wish i could channel these mornings.

these perfect mornings of sun and light and love that overflow from my soul.

i think it's because i'm overwhelmed emotionally. and i wept my heart out last night in sheer devastation and frustration.

but it's this gift He's given me

that after an emotional breakdown of tears, i get a beautiful and overwhelming rush of inspiration.

not the dramatic over-emotional kind that leads to dark poetry and angsty passion.

but the gift from Heaven kind. the kind where the gentlest whispers from my Almighty Father remind me of His presence.

the kind where He gifts me love.

via {pintrest}

a failure, you are not

empty, you are not

a beauty you are. 

inspired you are. 

so dry your tears with My grace

and 

write write write. 

and so, i can't help but delight. 

i will soak in food blogs

and bask in this sunrise. 

i will never stop to question this sweetness that He bestows. 

like the delicate richness of honey on my tongue, pouring down my throat in celebration of this life. 

new. fresh. 

oh, so much sweet glory. 

because once again i see that joy comes in this morning. 

i find the beauty of this life 

flooded in His love. 

fantasy (third giveaway)

item no. 1

THIS GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED.

i love books. i love being able to dream. 

i love the concoction of new worlds which i never could have touched before. i love having a new world to enter every time i close my eyes and open the rustling pages of a brand-new portal. 

hogwarts
alagasia

narnia

wonderland

never-never land

mossflower wood 

these are the places of magic. these are the places that have inspired this third giveaway. 

three beautiful shops have volunteered their stunning workmanship to this giveaway out of the sheer goodness of their hearts, and their own love of printed magic. 

this is also the giveaway that will celebrate my twenty-first year of life. twenty-one years of dreaming. of wishing. of imagining. all culminating on the 23rd of september. 

item no. 2

my greatest and most beautiful thanks to anafiassa (Jenny), Bramblewood Fashion (Ashley), and PrettyLittleCharmsUK (Leigh) for their own taste of the printed realms. 

Item No. 1: the Ice-Fruit necklace from anafiassa. 

Item No. 2: "Lucy" -- Narnian-inspired earrings from Bramblewood Fashion.

Item No. 3: Harry Potter Snape & Patronus Charm necklace from PrettyLittleCharmsUK

Item No. 4: Harry Potter snitch locket from PrettyLittleCharmsUK

Here is how to enter to win one of these three beautiful items (leave a separate comment PER ENTRY, please. Also, please include your email or blog link in at least one of the entry comments).


(IMPORTANT NOTE: If you are one of my lovely international readers...i.e. not from the United States...please comment as such in one of your entry comments. This giveaway is certainly open to you, as well, but one of these shops is not an international shipper. Many lovely thanks!)

Entry No. 1 (mandatory): if you could step into the pages of any book, any magical world, any place that dwells not on this plane of existance, where would it be? where does it come from? and why would you chose that place? (+1)

Entry No. 2 (mandatory): follow this blog and put the new and improved button on your sidebar. (+1)

item no. 3

Entry No. 3: blog/tweet/Facebook about the giveaway, and leave a link to your post/tweet/blog post in the comment. (+3, one entry per and one comment per, please)

Entry No. 4: go to Jenny's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

Entry No. 5: go to Ashley's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

Entry No. 6: go to Leigh's shop, heart it (if you have an Etsy), and comment with your favourite item from her shop. (+2)

item no. 4

this world is full of other worlds. foreign and sweet. dangerous and full of adventure. 

places where fauns leap

mice and badgers lead human-esque lives

young wizards find their place under four banners
where riding dragons is a legacy of warriors

and fairy dust leads you home again. 

you're never too old to dream. 

i'm about to turn 21. the age of "growing up." 

i refuse to grow up if it means i have to stop dreaming

if i have stop looking in wardrobes

or cheering for Gryffindor

or tumbling down the rabbit hole.

so when i am old, they will say, "after all this time?"

and i will say

always

This giveaway closes on October 4th at midnight CST. Winners will be drawn that night using Random, and announced the following day. Winners will have 48 hours to claim their gifts, or new names will be drawn. 

seventy-eight

some little things inspire.

some things ruin.

some things carry a tradition of imperfection long after they're gone.

to be honest, i know not what will be mine.

not really.

i just want to leave something behind. but then again

who doesn't want to be remembered for who they were

or

how they lived. it's one of those complicated things. not even sure where to start

or where to end.

i start here.

i end at the cross.

<a border="0" href="http://dramaticelegance.blogspot.com/2011/08/seventy-eight.html" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1227.photobucket.com/albums/ee430/dramaticelegance1009/tumblr_lpbtq72p5o1r0ldpxo1_500_large1.jpg" /></a>
this post contains 78 words. no more, no less. exactly 78 words, minus this caption. 
put your pen to page.
 what can you imagine...what can you inspire in 78 words? 
link up below. put the image in your post, and link back so we can all be blessed. 
(inspired by Esquire's short short fiction contest)

tidbits.

I never write random posts.

Truly, not ever.

Which, in all honesty, is very odd.

I am an incredibly eclectic person with a whimsical mind that tends to wander a bit more than perhaps it should at times.

But today has been so dreadfully hot, as though the fingers of the sun had become lonesome in their cooler home, begging for just one more moment to turn the earth into a simmering mass of melted souls.

Perhaps it is this vile heat, drawing me down into a puddle of nothing but dreams.

 Perhaps it is simply the creative spirit within me, whispering

compose again

dance again

write again

that draws out a need to speak in regards of some lovely wisps of colour that have passed alongside me today.

• this blog. a place laden with tea leaves and Jane Austen, laden with the aroma of Earl Grey and whispers of vintage dreams yet uncovered. this place belongs to my best friend, Alexandria, of whose mid-March engagement I wrote about here. this is not her first attempt at blogging, but this is hopefully her last attempt and first complete success. i promise that you will not be disappointed by her writings in the least. visit her, stop and say hello, if you would?

• the slight design changes i let myself make to the blog tonight. simple new header, new quote from my favourite authour. just the little things. do you like? 

• the summertime wonder of crickets chirruping and cicadas trilling. the beauty of this warm evening's soundtrack, shutting out the nonsense and drawing out the stillness in me again. 

• this song. could it be any more perfect for a day like this? it's a silhouette of perfection. i am lost in its wonder. 

• the wonder of my King. oh, how His glory endures. 

• the final week of my giveaway is upon us. take a moment and enter. i promise you will not be disappointed with what is in store. 

• the impact that imperfect prose on thursdays has had on my writing. everything is different. i'm letting go of so much inner perfection, my incesant need to be flawless at all times. i'm learning to fall in love with lowercase letters and let the magic flow without my inner voice wailing at me to edit just once more. and so, my dear Emily, I thank you.   

These are my evening wonders. 

forgive me my tidbits. 

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.  ~e.e. cummings

Whimsy (Second Giveaway)

Item No. 1

Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which if it were available in waking, would make every man a Dante or Shakespeare.  ~H.F. Hedge

Before we begin, I have to admit...I was blessed beyond measure by each and every one of you that responded to my previous giveaway. For it being my first, it was exactly the encouragement that I needed to continue in this beautiful endeavor. From the lovely comments I received, three random winners were chosen.

And now, as August rolls around...the final month in these warm and wonderful days of summer...the second giveaway has begun

I am more than honoured to present the following pieces from the beautiful and talented Molly and Claire of Molly the Pirate and Bisou Bisou Beads, respectively.

Each one of these pieces is remarkable in its own unique and one-of-a-kind beauty. I am, once again, drawn to the faintest bit of longing to be one of the lucky ones who will receive these elegant designs.

As before, the items mentioned are shown in order throughout the post.

Item No. 1: Afternoon Coffee Petite Glass Earrings from Molly the Pirate

Item No. 2 (example)

Items No. 2 & 3: One (1) Scrabble pendant necklace of the winners' choice from Bisou Bisou Beads. Two examples have been included in the post. Two winners will be receiving this gift.

(IMPORTANT NOTE: If you are one of my lovely international readers...i.e. not from the United States...please comment as such in one of your entry comments. Many lovely thanks!)

Here is how to enter to win one of these three beautiful items (each counts as either +1 or +2 entries; leave either one or two comments per entry, respectively. Also, please include your email or blog link in at least one of the entry comments).

Entry 1 (mandatory): Comment on this post with something you've always wanted to do, a place to which you have always wanted to journey, a dream you have yet to complete...perhaps an item from your bucket list. (+1)

Entry 2 (mandatory): Follow this blog, and put the BLOG BUTTON in your side bar/lovely reads/blog page/etc. (+1)

Entry 3: Blog/tweet/Facebook about the giveaway (+3, one entry per, one comment per)

Entry 4: Go to Molly's Etsy shop, heart it (if you have Etsy), and comment on this post with your favourite item from her shop. (+2 )

Item No. 3 (example)

Entry 5: Go to Claire's Etsy shop, heart it (if you have Etsy), and comment on this post with your favourite item from her shop (+2)

Entry 6: Follow Molly's blog (+1)

This world is full of whimsy...of beauty...of so many perfect dreams, just waiting to be experienced. Life is meant to be lived. We were created to wonder...to muse...to stand in awe of this world and the Mighty Creator who knit us all together from our earliest moments.

Be a gypsy.

Be a sojourner in this world while you yet have time.

Inhale life.

Chase the whimsy.

This giveaway closes on August 30th at midnight CST. Winners will be drawn that night using Random, and announced the following day. Winners will have 48 hours to claim their gifts, or new names will be drawn. 

The best reason for having dreams is that in dreams no reasons are necessary.  ~Ashleigh Brilliant

Inspire

Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes.  Art is knowing which ones to keep.  ~Scott Adams


One thing that I get asked more than anything is how I get so much inspiration...how it seems like I have an endless pot of artistry, and it flows from me in a copious amount.


I will be honest...I really have no such thing.


I run out of inspiration on a regular basis. I start posts constantly that never find their way to being published onto the blog. 


I try to write pen-to-paper, or rather, fingers-to-keys...not letting my overly-analytical brain to get in the way of my dreamer's heart.


But, to my own deep regret, I turn my nose up at my own work and allow it to sit without ever seeing the light of day. 


There are so many things that inspire me, though...so many things that move my fingers to dart a new path across the keys. 

• Summer days, complete with lemonade and fresh-picked orchard fruit
• Those people in my life who love me, comfort me, and reassure me...who bless me beyond compare. 
• Rainy afternoons, the chorus of raindrops beating against the windowpane, the percussion of thunder acting as the perfect accompaniment. 
• The melodic streams of Owl City and Imogene Heap flowing out from my rolled-down car window into the humid summertime air. 
• The sweetest scents of vanilla, white jasmine, and lilac...the kiss of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamony peach cobbler...the natural scents of damp soil and blossoming tea roses. 
• The words from my favorite book...reminders that there is more to life than facts and numbers...parchment letters from Hogwarts, back-of-wardrobe fancies that may just lead me to my long-chased Narnian home, and the floral gardens of Jane Austen romance.

These things are my bliss...rich and sweet, strong and deep

These are my inspiration...full of light, rich with power.  

These are the gifts of my loving King...the soft whisper of my Savior reminding me that He cares for me closely.

This world is hard and strange and can feel, oh, so empty. 

But there are gifts here. 

There is love here. 

There is glory here. 

There is inspiration here. 

Art is a collaboration between God and the artist, and the less the artist does the better.  ~André Gide

Enchant

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome. ~Anne Bradstreet

Finally, winter is over.

I think.

I hope.

Personally, I'm a place where winter has officially started to wear down my inspiration.

But it's over.

Finally.

The snow is melted. The air is fresh with the scent of rich, damp soil and the electric aroma of thunderstorms.

Flowers are peaking their heads just a bit uncertainly out of the earth. The grass is turning from faded brown to the whispers of sweet green. The breeze has that elegant perfume of soft wind and cherry blossoms.

Love is everywhere. From couples holding hands and walking along the swollen stream banks to the sweetest whispers of "yes" as diamond rings glisten brand-new on slender fingers.

There is the harsh cover of grief swiftly renewed by the cry of resurrection -- from the harshness of the splintered cross to the flutter of angel's wings.

There is a strange magic in the springtime...some strange combination of love charms and rose-petaled incantations.

There is a reason that I am enchanted with this time of year.

There is an unspoken vow of love...of charm...of whispered secrets in the blossoms and unfurling leaves.

I'm ready to be inspired again.

I'm ready for the spring.

"For behold, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.

'The flowers have already appeared in the land; The time has arrived for pruning the vines, and the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land. 'The fig tree has ripened its figs, and the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance. Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come along!" ~Song of Solomon 2:11-1

Soul

You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body. ~C.S. Lewis

I haven't posted for two days.

Yes, I know this goes against my plan to post every day in the month of February.

Honestly, though, I couldn't bring myself to post.

I just wasn't inspired.

And I couldn't force myself to write meaningless posts that didn't come from my heart just to fulfill a "goal."

Because, you see, when I write, I don't just scribble down random, trivial things for no reason.

I just can't bring myself to write like that.

Everything I write has a purpose.

I pour part of myself into everything I write.

I never understood writers who used their writing as a cover...

...a disguise to hide themselves from the world and remain anonymous.

Maybe it's my personality, but I am unable to separate myself from my writing.

I want those who read my blog to be as observers gazing through a picture window, gazing up at the stars and moon set in the black fabric of the night sky.

I want them not to see mere words -- black marks upon a page.

I want them to see into my heart.

I want them to see my soul.

I want them to see Him through me.

So read with caution, gentle reader...

...for what you see here is my heart.

So please, handle my soul with care.

Traincar

I have just learned a valuable lesson regarding blogging.

You get inspired, you write it.

Immediately.

Regardless of where you are or what you're doing. You don't wait or even remotely hesitate. You just write it.

Because if you don't, you will lose really incredible stuff that your mind cooks up.

Which is what has happened to me.

Yesterday, I took the train from one city to other. I should have known that I was going to get inspired.

There was so much going through my head at that moment. And my laptop was right at my feet.

I honestly had no reason to not just reach down, pick it up, open a WORD document, and just start writing until my fingers fell off.

But I didn't.

And now I regret it.

Because I can't get back what I lost. Who knows what it could have turned into, who it could have blessed. I'll never know now.

But I guess this whole thing has taught me something in the long run.

Missing that moment -- that one, crucial little flash that you can never relive -- is such a dangerous proposition.

You never know what friendship might be destroyed...what love could be missed...what life could be lost.

We must do more than just carpe diem -- we must seize more than just the day.

We must take every moment, every breath, every flash...

...because, if you don't, you never know what important moment you'll leave along the train tracks.