1388 days ago
One month since I wrote the last time...I can finally see the buds ready to explode into fresh green leaves. And grass is turning greener after the last rainy days. I'm not turning any greener, I guess I should just rippen day by day, as years go by. There's something in me that grows mature and serene, and becomes deeper and deeper, sitting at the roots of my self.
And there's a childhood vibe that's part of it. The trust the children have in sunny days and chirping birds, in the perfect beauty of flowers and great encounters. As being always possible, although they're miracles. Improbable but possible.
Work sucks, it does, I'm stuck to a chair (at least I have a big window in front of me) all day, always more than agreed, by an hour or two. But I read on the long way there and back, and once I'm out I refuse to still think about it. I look at the buds, I listen to the birds - there was one tonight that had a fantastic whistle. Fresh air after the rain. Breath deeply, let it in. Let everything in. Everything that's fresh and genuine. Including a glass of wine and belgian chocolates Not this week though, last week before Easter, I shall finally keep the Lent for 6 days, until Saturday night. Then is party time again!
And speaking of great encounters, I might have made one. Too early too decide...who decides when is too early? And I don't even blame it on spring, I guess the time was just right. Because everything happens for a purpose. Et tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes possibles. Especially right now. I guess also because I'm always ready to believe rather in beautiful things happening to me. And I tend to forget the ugly ones.
This posting is very confused. I'll tell you something...I don't want to make sense right now.