If you begin to realise that you have been ungrateful in the past, that indicates that you are now seeing stuff and appreciating it more, right?
Someone - and you know who - emailed me complaining about how difficult it will be for him to move back home because that means he will, once again, have to share a bedroom with his brother. Not really traumatic, but highly irritating and once again, not sharing a room is a perk of being an only child. I am beginning to get the picture that this guy is really different from the other people at school. He may even live in a flat, or if it's a house, it's a relatively small one (smaller than this one). Three kids to look after, and the mum's a 'domestic goddess'. He'd better find a job soon, and a good one, and one that he likes.
So, now I am glad that my grandad had money to make this substantial house, even though some of the bathrooms are ridiculously small and the hallways slightly too large. I have an amazing garden to run around in - I'd be able to play a comfortable game of football, if I had people to play with.
I can go out at night, feed my cat and then lie on my back and star-gaze. The stars are so much brighter and sharper in this hemisphere than in London or in Toronto. It allows me to dream and hope once again. I just hope that my dreams have matured and have some unifying essence that envelops the entire world and makes something so gorgeous happen that all this angst is worth it.
If I can just have that.
I feel like I want to be in love - again. Argh, I'll put it down to PMT. And the weirdo action - thriller type dream I had this morning. I had a brunette boyfriend, who looked at me with such tenderness, just before he kissed my cheek or lips (can't remember) and we had to get a baddie from inside a store. He was wearing a leather jacket. I was at complete peace; I completely trusted him - we were in sync. Two hearts beating as one. This reminds me of another gem of Kahlil Gibran's. I am still trying to figure it out, however.
My mental processes are of candy floss quality these days.
Someone - and you know who - emailed me complaining about how difficult it will be for him to move back home because that means he will, once again, have to share a bedroom with his brother. Not really traumatic, but highly irritating and once again, not sharing a room is a perk of being an only child. I am beginning to get the picture that this guy is really different from the other people at school. He may even live in a flat, or if it's a house, it's a relatively small one (smaller than this one). Three kids to look after, and the mum's a 'domestic goddess'. He'd better find a job soon, and a good one, and one that he likes.
So, now I am glad that my grandad had money to make this substantial house, even though some of the bathrooms are ridiculously small and the hallways slightly too large. I have an amazing garden to run around in - I'd be able to play a comfortable game of football, if I had people to play with.
I can go out at night, feed my cat and then lie on my back and star-gaze. The stars are so much brighter and sharper in this hemisphere than in London or in Toronto. It allows me to dream and hope once again. I just hope that my dreams have matured and have some unifying essence that envelops the entire world and makes something so gorgeous happen that all this angst is worth it.
If I can just have that.
I feel like I want to be in love - again. Argh, I'll put it down to PMT. And the weirdo action - thriller type dream I had this morning. I had a brunette boyfriend, who looked at me with such tenderness, just before he kissed my cheek or lips (can't remember) and we had to get a baddie from inside a store. He was wearing a leather jacket. I was at complete peace; I completely trusted him - we were in sync. Two hearts beating as one. This reminds me of another gem of Kahlil Gibran's. I am still trying to figure it out, however.
My mental processes are of candy floss quality these days.
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