Today is a postcard
Today is a postcard: blue skies and butterflies, sunny, with a constant warm breeze. the clouds were like fluffy cotton candies floating above. i let the road hypnotize me until steering became innate, automatically effortless like breathing. i hummed and sang and moved to rythm of whatever that was playing in the radio. it was good.
Tolstoy's words suddenly appeared in my mind.
"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life."
something which i missed dearly. born free. as free as the wind blow.
driving (freely) on a stretch of road somehow made me focus on thoughts that usually got choke off by the daily mundane thoughts.
Today is a postcard: blue skies and butterflies, sunny, with a constant warm breeze. the clouds were like fluffy cotton candies floating above. i let the road hypnotize me until steering became innate, automatically effortless like breathing. i hummed and sang and moved to rythm of whatever that was playing in the radio. it was good.
Tolstoy's words suddenly appeared in my mind.
"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life."
something which i missed dearly. born free. as free as the wind blow.
driving (freely) on a stretch of road somehow made me focus on thoughts that usually got choke off by the daily mundane thoughts.
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