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back from the bush

The streets had become crowded and rather noisy. So many people with so many opinions. I enjoy being social as much as anyone but it goes better when my heart is in it and it happens in an organic way–when I can just lean into it.

The suggestions to engage with more social networks made me tired. I balked. Of course anyone else can do as they like. Homes were lit up with the curtains open and people could look in as they passed by. I glanced in a few windows too; interesting.

As I went about my business, people on the same wavelength made brief eye contact. The newly awakened stared like deer in headlights. Others glanced away shifty-eyed.

Triviality became overwhelming. I longed to sit under a tree and listen to the birds, so I did. I questioned if what I’d been doing was a “hell yeah”.  So I went out into the bush for a while because I can. (It’s a privilege to be able to; I’m aware.) I felt that I didn’t miss much.

When the illusions fall away, you can’t unsee things. Drinking Moscow Mules, sitting in the yard and letting a lot of things go because the cost simply isn’t worth it.

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Dress from World Goth Fair: Mourning in Seafoam by The Muses.

Table and chairs: Languor Abbey.  It comes with a pewter tea set; the one in the photo above shows a cocktail set from POST.

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