Good Grief 133

Walls, worlds and parts of the whole (again)
... but at least in colour this time.
Motivation and plans ... all these things that give life some kind of momentum, some kind of shape, some kind of purpose.
Lots of half baked ideas floating around.
Generating the day is such a subtle, fickle thing.
I had thought I'd do one thing, changed my mind, then thought I'd get a plant to take to someone who has been in hospital, who I barely know, but her mum is next door to my mum and I knew I could drop it in at the place she works for when she gets back. It was a focus.
I still haven't been feeling great since having flu.
But a short walk in the late sun and watching the sun caught silver river snake its way across the fields, I had arrived here.
Just here and nowhere else, unknowing.
I was sad. I thought of their lost, beautiful souls.
But it was possibly more West Berlin than East, in a way. Or, at least, some sense of it. But it's not ok. It just is.