There are weeks in which a saturation of events pummel your face, as if you're stuck on one side of a gargantuan pendulum and you're waiting for it to strike you. It does so again and again. You get tired of it.
But there are weeks in which a saturation of events caress your face like soft wind, a train of continuous bliss. Hmm.
There's a soft wind outside, and if life were a cartoon it would be making its fingery trail into the open window. It's lulling me to sleep.
This week's been fun.
One last thought for the day. Songs always say "help me get through the night", but shouldn't you be wanting to get through the rest of your life?
Plus, nights are dark beautiful.
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