i became that girl who can still drink a cup of coffee late at night
and go to bed. I somehow feel uncomfortable with this; wishing I could talk to you, and that you could some how shed some lasting wisdom, I resign the pressure with which I regard my thoughts. I just want you to know that I still peaked over at the coffee. It is after all, the best cup of coffee that I’ve ever made.
Why deny myself when I know instinctually it is my nature, and I have learned that I am a healer. Is healerdom of the self or of others? It is both.