Purposeless weekends. Other people’s sadness dripping over unavoidably into our lives. No matter who, now. Real sadness is so incredibly private.
Now that we get regular sunlight, the trees, still leafless, look uncomfortable and wrong. The sun’s almost over the equinox, and the change in seasons makes me want to sleep all day. Time to read Harry Potter some more…
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Book 5)” (J. K. Rowling)
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white pebble 