Some days demand retreat, they scream go back inside, close the door and turn out the light. Cover your head with a blanket, curl up in a ball, dark, silent, nothing but the sound of your breath, in and out, in and out. Block out marauding thought. Wait patiently until your skin grows back.
"Solitude is the place of purification" -Martin Buber
Sunday, 19 April 2009
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all writing copyright - My Name is ZING - 2009
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