|
I feel like I did nothing but dream about worrying last night. I feel like I got no sleep at all, kept waking up in a panic. I have no idea what I was actually dreaming about, just that I was worried about it... Argh.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
__________________
'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
|