23.10.15

These months I've been doing my best to let things go, to take it easy, to accept and accept and accept. I've been indulging my impulses, nurturing my self-empathy, and bull-headedly asking for what I want, but when I look in the mirror I just look tired. Wrinkles, bags, creases, ooze in lieu of glow. It turns out nothing is easy, everything is hard. (Everything is equally easy.)




me at sunrise in the woods, when/re things weren't easier, but simpler



I'm smart enough not to expect anyone to change, least of all myself. 
My wanting to change is the foundation on which I balance.



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