“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”

I love how glass protects and preserves. There is something magical about things behind glass, yet there is a small glimmer of sadness in the object so alone from the world outside, its' invisible walls keeping it secluded and safe, but keeping it out of human contact.

Im not sure how im meant to feel, giving that my room is made of glass. Hmm.