Fruit salad

Painting winds and souls

A good story is like the wind, wild, soft, interchangeable, uncontrollable, opening and closing doors you didn't even know were there. Some people lack the stories, lack the wind. They don't understand the pain and torment it can bring, or the beauty. They see only one or the other, never both unless they live with the wind. Whereas those who live with the wind cannot fathom such quiet, such emptiness, they are restless. So they wander in the places with that same wind. Painting it with their imaginations, releasing it with their hearts. They wander.

They wander through the wind, through the tales of magic, mystery horror and more, searching for their story, searching for the precoloured winds of their own reckless souls. Searching,
                    Hoping,
                                   Waiting,
                                                  Wandering.

They wander.
They all wander.
They are the wanderers.
We are the wanderers.
We want our story to find our souls and open our hearts to love blindly no more.
We wander for knowledge,
We wander for love,
We wander for dreams.

The wind feels this, like how they feel the wind. The wind feels knowledge, love and dreams. It feels your heart, but more.

The wind feels your soul
The wind helps you wander.