I can't concentrate on anything. I feel ... euphoric. No, that's not right. Something else.
Just, at peace. That's not right either, is it? Nothing seems to matter. I am quite content to squeak down the paths in the river valley, feel the snowflakes. Enjoy this, whatever it is.
And thoughts of her: will I see her again? Of course. I jealous? I don't know -- but it doesn't seem to matter.
Ha! What will people think?! My dad wouldn't understand. Others, the will think what they will. What an odd journey this has turned out to be.
This is such a novel experience for me; so many things I thought I knew: shattered.
I think i will write a ballad (played on a Daruka or something). There will be movement, I'm sure. But for now, such a theme might be appropriate.
Actually, no. I don't feel like a ballad: way too thick; I have yet to hear music appropriate enough for this stretching moment. Ask me in hindsight, I will have chosen an appropriate tune.
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