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when the routines aren’t

Flowers cascade
Flowers cascade

Nothing is a routine for me in this life. Each thing is a subtle joy to go find. Moments to become enriched. Sometimes bored and then I think of just out my door. There where Merida stirs. Where the motorbikes cruise and the tailor shop down the street with the friendly people take a day. They sit in the evenings with big bottles of beer laughing and have invited me. I must bring my own bottle. They play beautiful and lonely music that I don’t know but I feel sad listening.

I can walk home in 5 minutes. Find my door and realize I did find the beautiful, the slow, the usual. Right out my door.