IceGalaxy

Six hours and 31 minutes away from where I live is the Virginia Creeper Trail. A couple miles into the trail from the Tenessee side, there is a tree with a house built on it. A treehouse.

Everyone has at least 
one. Even though they may not
realize it, they have a 
secret. 
Secrets are meat to be 
kept secret 
(hence the name), but they
always leak out
sooner or later.
Always.

Perfection
does not
exist.

How can it?

They always
exclaim &
moon over how
perfect something is.

But it isn't
perfect.

It never was
& never will be.

Perfection 
does not

    There is a tree in my backyard.