perfect mistake

And in the midist of that warm summer night it hit me. Watching those clouds looming overehead, shifting their way across the sky, morphing into whatever shape nature dictates, it hit me. Listening to the sound of soul, produced by your average harmonica, but played with your un-average passion, it hit me. Life is one perfect mistake. As I lay back in admiration of the sounds of the world I feel the grass beneath my body, the wind brushing against my skin, the pureness of a man playing his heart out without a care in the world because in that moment life was a perfect mistake. None of it was planned, none of preplanned, just your average daily perfect mistake. Like the clouds always moving, always changing, so does humanity, swaying in the winds of change ready to make that next perfect mess, that next beautiful picture that only you can see within those clouds, only to be changed into another beauty in the instance of a breath.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story sounded much more beautiful as I was thinking of it in the moment, but I had nothing to type/write with. Plus, I was just enjoying life.

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