"... Sons are like birds, flying upwards over the mountain..."
I wish I could kiss every blade of grass, every cloud, every ray of sun, and every petal I see and touch. Things smell better in the summer, maybe not people exactly, but the wooden swing at the co-op, the leather interior of my car, the air outside, everything that's in the sun smells so good.
I saw Morgan and another girl picking a bouquet of flowers outside the co-op as I was on my way to work today. They had blue and pink and lavender and yellow flowers. I felt jealous, but in an un-malicious way. I wanted to pick flowers too.
Sometimes I'm sad that I don't believe in God. If I did I would have so much to thank him for. I get overwhelmed by how beautiful it all is, and the magical complexity of you and I. Sometimes all those thank yous pile on top of each other because I don't have anyone to give them to, and they fill my heart up, and it makes me want to cry. My face gets all hot and I have to drink really cold water to calm down again. I don't really know what to do about all that ...
