Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Seventy-One
That was better than nothing, but I could use another five hours in bed.
I can feel it running through my body. All is in vibration.
French press of decaf. Streaks of sunlight across the table.
Twenty minutes is better than no minutes.
She read a poem. That seems appropriate for her. I grab a chunk of carrot cake before I leave.
What is this reaction? What is it trying to tell me?
Duck fat fries and a salad. A few sips of Chardonnay. Cool breeze in the shade.
When you look at something so many times, you can’t see it anymore.
It’s only Wednesday.
“Be yourself.”