I am fucking tired.
Spent.
Wrung dry.
EXHAUSTED.
Apparently, I am crazy. Thanks to bad diet and lack of sleep. But things in my life are going great.
Body heat is the best thing in the world.
A part of a lovely poem I think is kick ass:
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
