Annual love letter to God

February 6, 2017

Was not written in time for my birthday, after all. Nor is this it.

Listening Adele sing a song of regret and movies. The weather isn’t obvious enough for netball to be called either way.

It’s Stephanie Sun’s turn; she’s singing about stars and light, yours and mine. She’s searching, and maybe so am I. We are dust, after all.

Can I really help? Am I a source of support, or a burden, or a series of messages to be ignored?

Ed shereen sees fire, and wants to be remembered. well. that sounds about right.


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