lullaby

You wake up sleepy and go back to bed. You wake up again and it is snowing, it is grey, it is Monday. Your exercise is all work and no play; lunch holds no spice; learning begets no wonder. You try to read and gain no knowledge, no insight from the flat and flimsy thing that is the writings of a great medieval mystic. You scroll twitter resentfully. And finally, you are rude to your boyfriend without provocation.

Back to facebook, you are tagged in photos, look at your boring ugly face what a miserable person and then you are stopped.

wpid-fb_img_1427860645024.jpg Arrested by this portrait, frank, lovely. Here you are as someone saw you once upon a moment, beautiful.

We are only children, after all, and these days we are destined to crumble through don’t cease to visit when fits and tantrums cease to be acceptable. But at the end of a no-good, very bad effort we may sometimes find grace. Perhaps a lullaby of a photo unconcerned with common-sense blame, only humming that the world declines again tonight to end; no, this is not the end of the world.

Cry your little tears for their own sake but fall and fall quickly to sleep. The morning brings new sun, new chores, new apologies; for though this is a world sometimes determined to overwhelm, it yet holds photographers who chase down the light and lovely in others with determination greater still. Such are the best great hopes of the small.

My very best friend lives in Connecticut. She might take your picture if you ask.

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