The Flux of existence is surely idiosyncratic, itinerant, and unsolidified.
And as life’s bubble evolves, the music follows and leads, simultaneously.
The constant tempo only subsists afore you are born and once you are vanished.
Nothing is constant. Nobody is constant. With a rock-solid exception of the love your dog has towards you… potentially.
Per aspera ad astra. Per fluxera ad astra.
The beauty is in the ears of the one who listens….

Nothing's Constant

Spoiled beyond belief. I freak out at the slightest change in thread count. The epitome of lazy, the sparkiest of spazzoids.

Nothing's Constant

MJPtaque