Receipts, flowing out of this drawer, spring cleaning, chronological rangement au rendez-vous de l'heure, clean up your act. Finish the accounts. Wind raging against glass, remnants of a storm, long past, follows the sun, who graced us with his heat. Hello there, peace. No, not yet. as my eyes read the excesses of my choices, books, books, books, more books, which books? choose carefully. choose to escape. choose to heal...... from a harmless "love", misplaced (? no idea), months of silence past, a "regards" after well wishes for yet another too short trip around the sun "miscommunication" ? No. I know what it was and why. I still cannot accept because I must I must heal Just now, too early to tell, as I heard the bombs fell in another corner of the world …………………… yet another... Interconnected, another trauma to worry about constantly as the clouds settle amidst the bubblegum cotton candy colored jumper, a storm is coming, words tear across the pages of a soul still cataloguing "what?", "which?", "how?", "the desk is now organized", "what book to read next?", loss. I threw the receipts away. I am still not "love", no longer. I still have correspondence to take care of.
You might be wondering why there are so many flowers on here…. it is the easiest character for a photoshoot. That aside, this week, we wrote on the cleaning process, lots of past and present emotions, and, in a subtle fashion, today’s current events, which worry us (and we hope you too).
Now, if you please, we have to get back to cleaning and the day’s tasks. Stay safe.