Boundaries help us all share, or do they?
Sometimes I view the life I've chosen as a well framed stamina-based sufferfest ripe with pockets of rejuvenation. Lessons in energy expenditures, keen-eyed treasure discovery and chaos resiliency. Don't touch unless you want to be subjected to forces strong enough to break two of me. Warnings coated in sugary goodness carve deep, not much choice to make. Carved deep, breezes touching places never meant for a breeze. It's still a treasure even if you can't put it in your pocket and show your friends, nauseating with frustration, but still a treasure. If I was stitched up they must have been chewed out in my sleep. Bless, release, refocus until I find my place. Now to see which combination of discombobulation produces a spreadable joy. Keep faking it, I'll make it.
Been a long time since the sun felt this warm:
Good things happen when you suffer for the craft, in just the right way for just the right amount of time.