How high the hills, stretching ever upward and I can not muster the energy to even start. I hang out here on the bottom, making lame attempts at ascension, but I don't know where to get the energy. It is pleasant down here just now, if only that list of things to do would not grow longer by the minute.
Today the weather turned in New York; snow fluttered noncommittally to the ground and the cold air made us walk a little faster, made us keep our head down. In three weeks I will be on the verge of leaving on a long-awaited adventure, a journey to the ends of the earth.
The cold wind, the steep inclines, they don't seem so bad then.
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Sifting through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way.
About Me
- Cajsa
- "If I can go to New York, live madly, and write. I will want for Nothing."
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