Everything is consistantly inconstant. Nothing is ever exactly the same. But, I suppose that's what makes every moment uniquely beautiful... every time is the last, and the first. 

It makes me even more adament about embracing the details of everything. The way natural light hits a person's face while they're talking. The way a person's eyes reflect them more perfectly than any series of words strung together. The momentary silence that comes and goes in conversation. The look of something fully knowing it's nearing death. The softness of lips. The intricate detail of nature's pattern and design. The way everything is somehow mathematical, but not necissarily mechanical. The way the sun looks breaking through the trees when you're biking. Fall air. an accelerated car turning when everything feels as though it is in slow motion, and endless. Because, within the details you see, there is still simplicity. When pulled apart each fragment of our lives becomes simple. Only when it is pieced together is it then made difficult. When all the details flush together at once and become overwhelming. When islands become countries.