Poets think everything on Earth is romantic. Things like the summer breeze and windswept hair.
They are wrong.
Gone With the Wind is a classic but it is not what you want to be. The wind doesn’t gently sweep your hair from one perfect position to another. It will completely massacre it and all the effort you put into making it look presentable. From beautiful to bird’s nest in 0.2 seconds.
Growing into a woman is not always a promising and hopeful journey of discovery and insight. Sometimes it just means spots.
Anyway, I’ll stop myself before I begin full on ranting. What then, is a reasonably poetic notion to romanticize?
I mean, LOOK. GREEN. SO SO GREEN. THE WORLD IS ALIVE!
There is so much light and emerging colour and everything is vibrant. I’m finding my least favourite season is making me surprisingly joyful, I’ve breathed spring in so deep it’s infiltrated my bloodstream.
As well as the combination of rooftops and the sun.
It’s less claustrophobic up here with the sky stretching on endlessly.
Little moments like enjoying a glass of red wine with a good friend should be paid more attention to.
`We may pretend to be artistic with our illusions of romantic wind but if I have the option of good wine and a good laugh, then frankly, I don’t give a damn.