Man-flu, in a woman´s body. Luckily it is also a very windy day with lots of clouds, makes it easier to cope with not getting stuff done outside, or at all.. Guess I was raised to do stuff, all the time, like a tornado. Now a tamed tornado only rages in the blankets, with a partner-in-crime-puppy.
.. but here is memories from a sunny day.
and a short versed very long poem.
Born to fit in
raised to tune out
Born to chill
raised to rage
Born on rocks
raised on sand
Born in a haze
raised to settle the pace
Born to adapt
raised to be stable
Born to do shit
raised to be pretty
Born to be hard
raised to be strong
Born to run in forests
raised to sit on chairs
Born to be curious
raised to not ask questions
Born in darkness
raised to spread the light
Born to eat the catchable
raised to feed from boxes
Born to fight the ocean
raised to swim along
Born to fear the fire
raised to praise the sun
Born to learn
raised to know
Born to coexistance
raised to individuality
Born with hands and feet
raised to use machines
Born to feed on nature
raised by a beast
Born in noice and movement
raised to be silent and still