If I didn’t have a small lake to go to and cry on my lunch breaks, I think I’d have completely broken and quit my job while screaming at everyone around me to fucking do something.
Thank God I can just stare at some birds and water and remember what life is.
If I didn’t have a small lake to go to and cry on my lunch breaks, I think I’d have completely broken and quit my job while screaming at everyone around me to fucking do something.
Thank God I can just stare at some birds and water and remember what life is.
A little random, but your comment reminded me of a poem I encountered in college. It’s by Liu Cheng, and in Burton Watson’s translation it’s called “Poem Without a Category.” https://ccl.northwestern.edu/curriculum/poetry/cp.cgi?C/Cheng/PoemWithoutACategory
That’s a lovely poem. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. It very much captures the feeling and sensations of what I was describing.