FRAGRANT MORNING

It was a normal chilly Sunday morning. I had but one blanket over me and the window wide open, with Californian winter breeze sweeping my room. After almost some ritual-indulgence in Mahler's Resurrection Symphony, I changed the tune to Lorrena Mckennitt. "Skellig", frees the mind, eases the soul.

I almost broke down to a cry, because I don't know any more. Yet they say it's good to get lost sometimes, but it differs from getting lost intentionally. "So the years went by, within my rocky cell, with only a mouse or bird,my friend; I love them all." Soon enough the rain comes down outside. A wet holiday season coming to its conclusion. A nice morning coda with endless aftertastes, and dreams, and numbs.
The songs go on, they never stop, or betray.