A highly unoriginal title. Not for a post of my writing. But it is all I can say. My job I like well enough though it is not the happy sunshine fairyland I might have wished for in a naïve and semi-sober moment. It is not doubt of what the future may bring that worries me, I intend fully to stick to my one-month old plan, no.
No, it is the old heart that troubles me. It seems that I will never be rid of its fancies and follies. An dit hurts. Like papercuts in the tips of my fingers, it hurts. I know not to fight feelings, I know better far better than to be subdued by them. My mind is clear in that. But my heart knows nothing and still feels. Feels as if it never felt pain. Feels as if love needs only that, that a heart wants to love back. Sorrow upon sorrow I heave and I can only hope that the little joys of life lighten the burden. Idle hope but still hope.
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