dusky

Everything...

A boy atop a bus stop- having his shoes stolen.
The shoe lands in a green bin. I felt on the green edge of snapping.
I feel that old familiar sinking into myself where I don't really even want to talk anymore.
Moss covered rock

Just alone

Am I tired? Or just tired of?

But things do get better. The weekend brought great gifts, reminders of tenderness and how important that is.
Also a tearful reminder that this is a fucking beautiful city, whatever one's perception of beauty is.

I spent a large chunk of Saturday walking throught the City, through all the streets that are closed during the weekend, when no suits and workers are around. It was overwhelming, and large and stately and special. My breath caught when I saw St Paul's again.

Today I've done home stuff. Shopping and cooking and writing, washing and reading. And I had a good cry (it actually wasn't that good- I felt like my soul was melting) while listening to Bon Jovi. Strange past and memories that sting.

Cocooned in tenderness. Bittersweet.