(no subject)
I get teary-eyed this morning at the coffeehouse, sitting out back on the deck; looking out over an abandoned lot, grown over, Ballard's sunday farmers market stretching far in each direction. It's cold out this morning with the trees already burning bright yellow, a grey, muted sky hanging overhead. I listen to Blue Scholars and allow myself to be moved by the culmination of so many beautiful things.
This morning we wake up early with the sun but stay warm under the covers for the next hour. It's during these times that I feel the most open and honest. I don't hold anything back anymore.
My being, myself, has become familiar with the strength that comes from being optimistic. Ever evolving.
This morning we wake up early with the sun but stay warm under the covers for the next hour. It's during these times that I feel the most open and honest. I don't hold anything back anymore.
My being, myself, has become familiar with the strength that comes from being optimistic. Ever evolving.