Its not that slippery anymore, its still wobbly, and uncertain, but the solid ground is underneath, always. Waldboden, Duft des Sommers, Home of many bird people and others..
Holding on to life, as it is, as it presents itself, as I create it.. for my comfort, for my pleasure, for my (pain?) joy..
I am who I am and that always changes, my last name literally means change in the netherlands.
I am sinking a bit.. like a bird, that flew all summer, and then fell into a river and cant get out, falling in deep sleep, not dying, but being.. lost in words, memories, desires, processing.. untill next spring.. or tomorrow, or next year, or never.. never never comes. It is an ongoing story. Life. Comes and goes. And comes and goes..
I guess I m sad, someone came and went. Again.