A dropped apple bruises

I’ve recently been rather bumbling and klutzy with my love. A dropped apple bruises. Oh, I never meant to hurt anyone, but it happened all the same. It’s “my least favorite game” (to quote appropriately). I suppose it just serves as a reminder that I am not, in fact, invincible, despite the sunsets and the thunderstorms which try to convince me otherwise. I forgot (for whatever reason) to open my eyes and seek. When I our eyes meet, I find I’m incapable of this selfish greed, and in my selflessness I find life and love of a purer strain than I have perhaps yet known.

A dropped apple bruises, and I must keep my eyes open.

The truth is my life is better when my eyes focus on you. I am a better person when you love me.

This weekend left me feeling emptied, drained. Of energy at least. My joy was overflowing from the love of those around me. Still, I felt depleted and fragile.

My solution last night… hummus, origami and Scotch on the Commune room floor.

I believe that no problem is so great that it cannot be solved by hummus, origami and Scotch on the Commune room floor.