Journal Entry
4th March, 2017
An unfiltered shot of a view from my kitchen window at dawn.
Youth belongs to the brave, not exclusively to the young so don’t let anyone fool you.
The young waste away in insecurity not uncommon for that age, worries about real problems and petty nonsense. Sometimes – no, oftentimes throwing away precious seconds like spare change. I suppose it’s all a part of the growing pains.
Hopefully, the older we get the wiser we can become. When the cloud shifts and everything is clearer and defined, well, that’s if we’re being optimistic. When we long for the pennies lost in that one ugly couch we all had years ago.
This is the age when living means more alive. Shrugging off, bit by bit, old deceptions, loosening up inhibitions. I imagine that’s when we’re no longer afraid, knowing that Grimm isn’t far in the distance anymore.
Laced in wrinkles, graying hair and achy joints, we’ve never felt more aware and perhaps a bit more sure of our place in this great old world.
Youth belongs to the brave and loosely tethered souls. Don’t let them fool you.
Hot Chocolate And Books 
Lovely
*inclines head* Thank you.
I heard you speak of the young night which is a day old.
And the lives which must come alive tonight.
*Worries are pita so lets shove them in ‘ta.
What’s the last line about?
Pain In The Arse and, regrets and worries going there.
Ooh, I’ve never heard of that. Is that a saying?
Pretty much. Ask Google I guess? ☺😉