Appreciation of Butterflies – Sixteen

Hi, baby – here we are.  Somehow Tuesday is turning over into Wednesday, and I think I am still stuck in Monday.  We only have a few more times to be together.  I can’t believe that either.  I feel like we just started.

So, I think “officially discarded,” is where you and I usually begin to get interested, isn’t it?  “Officially discarded” – that supercilious condemnation  – gets our Irish up.  Officials have been discarding us all our lives.  Too sensitive, too smart, too fat, too nearsighted – they toss us on the heap with all the other “too’s.”

Dreamers that we are, treasure hunters to the core – we squint in for a closer look at the pile.  And lo and behold we discover it’s only other dreamers and treasure hunters who have landed right next to us.  We don’t “not fit.”  We weren’t made for the likes of those officials in the first place.

Oh, lovey, that’s too much philosophy, and not enough everyday.  I am restless and bored; I miss my walk (broken ankle) and am feeling overwhelmed by the backlog of my work.  As a cure, I’m trying to have some daydreams and conjure a little future something out of nothing I know for certain.

Sleep tight, darling.  I love you.  See you tomorrow.



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One thought on “Appreciation of Butterflies – Sixteen

  1. I can sympathize with the broken ankle; no fun at all. Thank the Goddess for black and white movies and a huge bowl of pop-corn.

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