plants that hold onto the balcony and orange flowers are pink when they're good. Colors bright, almost shocking color version normal. Just that sometimes I forget to water them, and, with the hot weather these days, my carelessness leads to torture them cruelly. I deny water to those who thirst for it. Account and deny care. I completely forget their existence. Keep plants on the terrace is a simplified version of the animal farming in the house: metaphors.
morning I pushed aside the white curtain, I looked at the long vase filled with dry earth, the leaves withered. All petals had fallen. No color.
I thought that yes, everything fits in the second. There are moments, it's nothing serious. This is to absorb, suck, keep in safe in the dark for a while ', and then eject, radiate. A natural cycle. I'm not worried, I enjoy the present moment.
You can not always give, you can not be in bloom for a lifetime. Indeed, the sense is nell'appassire and continuously flourishing. We really believe.
Here inside my head. Everything happens here.
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