My life has been hit by minor disasters more times than I can count. It is something that happens all the time I guess. But this time is different. I cannot say, really what the difference is, but I feel like a change in nature has occured. Until last week life could have gone on, sailing through its various troubles with minor course adjustments. No more, apparently. For some reason the back of the ship has broken, and I can't seem to be able to stay afloat any more. A drastic change is needed. Sailing won't do now. It's time I learn to fly.
This could be the "bad novel style" start to this new blog.
The realistic start is shorter, and just plain grumpy. I am fed up.
I discovered that in the last weeks I developed a natural inclination, (and some real talent) to imitate the charming smile exhibited by Bruce Spence as the Mouth of Sauron in the Return of the King. This cannot possibly be a positive sign. Worse: my husband loves it.
It cannot be healthy. But I am putting the cart ahead of the pony... as you will understand, in time.
Where to start the tale? It is a difficult thing. I am 31, and a complicated person, and there is number of things to say, but would you bear with me? Perhaps not. In any case this should not be the story of my life,but the story of how I came to consider to alter it... completely.
I have always been a moss gatherer... can you change and become a rolling stone? Literally?
I alway fidgeted with the idea that exile was my true home. Could that be the truth? Could it be that those roots that always bound me, with a mixture of bliss and pain, to my home and garden will one day grow so thin taht I can snap loose and just be... free?
This could be the "bad novel style" start to this new blog.
The realistic start is shorter, and just plain grumpy. I am fed up.
I discovered that in the last weeks I developed a natural inclination, (and some real talent) to imitate the charming smile exhibited by Bruce Spence as the Mouth of Sauron in the Return of the King. This cannot possibly be a positive sign. Worse: my husband loves it.
It cannot be healthy. But I am putting the cart ahead of the pony... as you will understand, in time.
Where to start the tale? It is a difficult thing. I am 31, and a complicated person, and there is number of things to say, but would you bear with me? Perhaps not. In any case this should not be the story of my life,but the story of how I came to consider to alter it... completely.
I have always been a moss gatherer... can you change and become a rolling stone? Literally?
I alway fidgeted with the idea that exile was my true home. Could that be the truth? Could it be that those roots that always bound me, with a mixture of bliss and pain, to my home and garden will one day grow so thin taht I can snap loose and just be... free?
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