Bliss

There is something incredibly beautiful about just...being. I'm not good at it. In fact I downright suck. I feel the need to be doing; I seem unable to do being.

I don't know what I'm saying. I just want to do so things get done, and I can't seem to let them be.

I cannot wait until Monday for so many reasons, and I can't decide which are noble and which make me suck.

Yet. Somehow. The tiniest part of me is happy. Blissful. Things aren't as bad as they could be. And if my hair ever gets that long again, I plan on wearing roses in it every day.