a bit like me at times ... the pitter patter of much needed rains I believe ... Thy eyes misty too, to see the damp path to indicate. The feel of rain from inside in the air.. The smell of wet mud.
The hope to achieve the wind down in context of rehabilitation time with a Mum. And a sister. The catch up with locals and locality, from my Kernow times. The integration of life where I still keep it at arms length ...The no interest in certain aspects of basic social contexts ...
The silent wrath in rage
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