What a perfect day for writing. Rainy. Sleepy. Dreamy August Sunday… Romance fills my body. My desires are deeper than my dimensional reality. Pillow thoughts. Feathers dance… Waiting drawns all hopes. Letting my precious time slip. Lets it slip. Slip. Slip. The riddles of staying, too slip. Slip. Slip. On paper everything looks so pretty. So promising. But the silence is loud. Life is just a blink. To precious for waiting. There is no pleasure, or fun or love in this hollow absence. Wasting clock on hopes of change… Time is slipping while contemplating. I can’t do that anymore. For many reasons, but mostly because this is it- One life. And waiting to be loved is a black hole.
And as magical as anything that comes to be, this wide window of opportunity opens to dive deeper into my soul. Riddles and paper promises. To feel what it is that I really want and need. In the shadows of my emotions, I say thank you.
My freedom is to choose happiness.