a lot of wet

I grew up with iceberg lettuce. Rain tonight, stranded. I have a fire in my lungs. This is it. Now. Waiting for something but it is already happening somewhere. Life is happening inside and outside my window. I want to taste adventure. beauty is fleeting.

Lying in a bed of memories

Home for the festive season. Missing it before I've even gone back. Summer and minimal responsibilities. I wonder what age I'll stop feeling looked after. Maybe when I have to look after someone. Another 1st of January, where I question some choices of the previous years. And hope for more satisfaction in the next. I am grateful for aspects, regretful for some and sad for a handful.