every day is the same for me because I have become so very different from what I used to be take the meal beside me now for instance not the heaping bowl of flakes with cows milk but a slim slice of melon alongside a toast with nut butter I am anymore like my own pale shadow to that self I can see as if a someone else and yet I know it has been me past lives nope just this one lived long and passion-filled ever changing as a result now though this life go-round I have discovered where angels live don’t laugh I am not convinced they exist either angels as the fairy tellers would have them with wings and halos but all the same I’ve discovered the angels neighborhood
they have lovely houses and lovely gardens and when I was visiting they were sitting lovely lovingly in their poise and gentleness there on the porch they told me they said Trish for of course they knew which name I responded to now in this life they said Trish you have to stop thinking of yourself as the person inventing this life and think of yourself as the first person who gets to see what it became wow I thought as I stepped back into my own kitchen door wow what a freedom no longer an obligation to succeed at something I can nary fathom as I try to form it but a living like the angels
enjoying the view I walk amongst
wow I wonder what will happen
next