Monday, January 2, 2012


The first week of January is breathing and bursting with new things about to happen. It smells like hope. It tastes like promise. Wild plans are spilt out over the day, dripping. Passionate intentions are born, not curled up, crying, but alive, kicking, running, before reality has a chance to reach out with her babying hands and whisper "careful, lovely, don't wish for so much." Today, we leap without looking. We throw caution to the wind and dream.


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