End of May and you are still faraway

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                                                           Thursday, 25th of May 2017

Dear Diary,

There is something comforting about taking my socks off, resting my feet on the grass, and emptying my mind from my own howling thoughts… It’s magical permitting myself to feel the abandonment, the freedom from my personality, my middling interests and existing as an improvised tree. There is something magical about don’t move, don’t think, don’t speak. Something magnanimous about being and sparkle the warm-cold light of the dusk…  There is something perpetual about my feet against the fuzzy grass that exhale the demons out of my body skin. //End of May and you are still faraway.//

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