The feeling of summer winding down is heavy in the air. I remember nights in forests and on beaches. A great big fire with people all around. The heat was congenial but too many voices have always given me chills. Today, alone, I watch sunlight dance on the canal.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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