A lot of reshuffling is going on—with objects...life...my chair facing the sun—the pens drinking ink—the table kept assorted with things that I would usually need --cups, tea, kettle, pen, papers...—the only clutter being the papers---torn, assorted, rough edged---and a plan in head—that’s fancy life for me—being in a room of thoughts—bringing observations back home.
Out there is noise...unbearable to my ears -- so I fill them with music--with sounds I wish to hear--and then there are days when I try the sun..the voices...but the definition of what's interesting in THEM fades for me...it's like a chance...and howsoever..how many CHANCES you give to people---it's all about them failing you or you failing them--- what you always come back to ...is you...!
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