IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
So uplifting
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Thanks!
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Most welcome VJ
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Oh my, I love your words! And the photos are practically fragrant 🙂
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so glad!
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🙂 🙂
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Beautiful garden photos. 😀 😀
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Thanks Cee!
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So much truth in your words!
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Thanks Heather.
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You are welcome
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This is wonderful V.J., thank you! ❤
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Thanks!
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