Lost, and will be found.

Hot and cold. Warm sunshine and cold. That’s how my moods fluctuate.

Really happy at times. Alive, free, high. Hammocks, jungle, golden sunsets on the sea and golden hair. Living and loving.

Cold is the only word to describe the other times. Something seems to just have gone cold in me.

The person I love most died. And the world doesn’t really make sense any more.

But I climbed a fort the other day. And then wandered off on a foot trail on the hill. Watched the sun set on the sea while my hair blew about.

I hear the birds and watch the squirrels. I see the sky full of stars, and amaze that something so wonderful is so real.

I sleep in the winter sunshine, swaying on a hammock, in a world of different shades of green.

I meet people who are so alive, meeting whom gives me tremendous joy.

I hate the cold. But the first part to getting rid of it, is to accept it’s there.

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