Trudge to the bathroom in the early morning, eyes grumbled and vision short, come out to realize a giant cruise ship fills the whole kithen window. A Monday morning cruise ship, all off schedule, everything is Wacky Wednesday, you revel in recognition, in how much you loved whimsy in your youth. How do we reclaim such joy in our adult years?
Emerging from the depths to remember what it is to want to feel joy is a gift, when you've spent so many months forgetting. You reapply your lipstick, feel the color return to your cheeks. What harm can rain do, when you can create light on your own. The little girl waits at the edge of the cursor, patient but eager, she wants the rest of her story now, wants you to tie her question marks together, to carry her across a finish line that is really only the doorway to somewhere else.
I want the same, my dear, I do. Let me gather my strength, let me collect my things. I've fallen apart across the floorboards but it doesn't matter now.
All that matters
is that we get you
home.
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