After the Blue Moon

July 31, 2015

 

Light has risen within me like a white dove experiencing its rebirth. It’s beautiful. Maybe it’s the weather. The yoga. The meditation. Who knows honestly. All I know is that Blue Moon. That blue moon’s got some undeniable power or something. It made me see a side of me that I have not been able to spot in  a long time. Happiness. Drive. Dedication. Hope. Dreams. Well, I assume it’s about time I picked up a pen and paper. I’ve always enjoyed it anyway to be honest. Heh. I wish things were still 25 cents. I bet that if you stepped back into that era, the New Yorker would have been pristine. Smiling concierges, bright-eyed receptionists, and rooms that did not look like dilapidated shadows. Ugh. The humdrum of present day.

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