Tempted to : arde-o nene, pana ti se face scrum.

But no, no…”ce ma bag eu?” said Toma. “Ce-mi veni mie cu…”- “Pai cum sa nu-mi vina, cum sa nu-mi vina!?!”

Flatness is bliss. Smudged burgundy hung over cockadoodledos, barefeet on skinny fur, snowflake on the tip of my nose and some voice scrunching in my left ear and home. As unsettled as I started out, perhaps only a tad taken away. Up another inch on the ladder above the crystal downwards concavity, if only for a short while. I’m definitely knitting a bit too tight a sweater and encrusting way too many stones in it. Let it hang loose, let it breathe, or else it will choke u. This morning I thought I could breathe easier, my own fingers slightly removed from the hold. Everything is passed on, I know. There’s no point in stopping. The wave will carry u, no worry there. Don’t fret and u’ll be riding it like a pro surfer…(and no buts! )