My Daily bAbbles

Dear,

How is it that only on cloudy/rainy/gloomy days I feel like writing, I do not know. I don't either know what to write about. The only thing I am thinking right now is what I don't want and what I do want. But I don't want to write about that.

If I have to type a wish, my floating desire of the moment would be that I'd like to be a feather I guess. A feather in the wing of one of those migratory little birds that fly fast, part of their flock, destined to a route...

I know only one thing. That I know nothing. Sorry.

Someone told me not to apologize. Not all the time anyway. But I couldn't help it.