The world is pleasant through a soft blue mist of sadness. The faint sadness reminds you you are alive, it is a subtle pain, a subtle breath, a subtle caress of blue water, that gives a soft beat to a heart otherwise numb. A panorama of blues and whites, soft blurs and vividly defined lines, an atmosphere of ocean fog, damp air, blues, tinted. Feelings flow through a heart that breathes them in like moist air, fresh. The present is dream-like, distorted by the current of soft emotions. All sounds are somewhat quieted, all things are somewhat blurred. Faces are eyes in pools of soft brushstroked tones. Mouths open but sometimes the words are not heard. The mind considers tragic memories, with a quiet regret. They fade with each passing sun and moon. The ivory moon, the light-blue sun. The kisses of clouds. The rising tide. The soft push of waters through toes. The feel of sand. The brush of wind. Tender. The arms of life. Home.