forgiving myself today, locking in tomorrow

what if it all worked out in my favour

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it? Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, can I do better? Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia? Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.

5pm on a lovely winter's day

i want to get a master's degree i want to take a cake decorating class i want to dance i want to sing i want to write and remember how to think i want to swim i want to be free

“how’s life?”