“The language is leaving me in silence.”

In case you’re wondering, nope, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth. Yet. As much as I’d love to. Imagine that. One minute you’re stuck in this swamp of a troposphere, stressed, burdened, oppressed. Next thing you know you’re floating off in the air, light-hearted, weightless, free. Keep picturing it and now you’re propelled into space, hopping across the moon, doing cartwheel in the vacuum, sashaying to the next planet, yelling hi to Le Petit Prince & his rose, playing Pictionary with ET — “Oh, oh a dumbbell? Two connected lollipops? ET you suck at drawing! Oooh I know I know I know, a PHONE! YOU CALLING HOME? Ha!”

Must be going through a blogger’s block. It’s funny how most of the times I’d find amusement in even the teeniest thing — a chocolate wrapper on the ground, a little dog yapping at the end of his tether, a cute kiddo wiping her snot on her sleeve, and I’d come up with a whole story. But there are times, like now, when they’re just that, plain, simple, boring — litter, animal, small human.

Life is drained of colour.

~”Pour the night into a glass. Can I sip it slow and make it last?“~

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