I wish for a day where my dreams do not change for each day of the week.
But perhaps I do not.
Because some days I wish for a future where I am always busy, in a city that sleeps even less than I do.
Other days where all I wish for is a quiet life in the French countryside, where my only worry is what I will wear to water my garden.
Yes, these ideas are both fanciful, but it is so much fun to be able to dream mindlessly.
So, a toast to dreams that change daily and to people that do too.
When I think of the color green, I think of the trees behind my school. In kindergarten, when kids were cruel and words hurt more than sticks or stones, the trees were there.
I made tea this morning.
I put the leaves in, watching the steam dance with childlike wonder.
I returned to my laptop, staring at a half finished chapter, the bags under my eyes more apparent than ever.
Moving on is different for everyone, and eventually, you’ll never think of them again.
Is what I hear from everyone.
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