The desert that day looked like a nasty case of prickly heat caught in a long, naked wince.
Barbara Kingsolver Time is of the essence. The essence of thyme. That humanity is ravaged during springtime. Sadness and confusion against rebirth, growth, green, beauty. To the kind of person who will always be okay.
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I’ll probably get homesick, I love you, goodnight. Man I miss my friends, I miss playing music with my friends, and I’m sad that there’s another thing causing people pain and death and sacrifice. But I’m also proud to see glimpses of what we can do as a world when we’re asked to unite. I’m excited to see that the individual matters, that our choices can directly affect others lives. The world is remembering that the people who really make shit happen are health workers, grocery clerks, farmers, delivery drivers, teachers. ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// NOTHING MATTERS: a reminder To reread your own writing and have doubts cast upon what you once believed airtight. Ah! the times. Ah! the folks.
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