(no subject)

[qcontinueum]

This morning marks the passing of a new day.
A closing of the latest chapter I've been working on.

It's not done, it won't be done until the day I die.
For now though, the book is closed.

I've grown weary with chasing ghosts.
I'm tired of it.

Hope has gone into hibernation.
Hope hopes the winter will be short.

But not too short.
Hope is tired.
It needs rest.
It needs to recuperate.

Not too much, but not too little.
We'll see...