Feb 17, 2014 18:57
This is a bit like happening upon a former incarceration of oneself. My dear friend's words, not mine. Incarceration of oneself. Is incarceration too severe of a word? Humility. Humility. Humility.
Minnesota proven herself a brutehearted mother fucker this winter. Today, at least, through a window, there was something to appreciate.
Scully keeps eating the plants. She's about to lose her surprisingly human-like mind. Inbetween nibbling kibble and rubbing against my legs, she finds her spot in the window sill just to smell the outdoors. She's a poet. I know it. She pays attention to everything.