I don't patronise bunny rabbits.

It's strange, how after so very long I still
dream of people that I don't care to be dreaming
about.

They make me sad. Fragments of a life that
could have been, but wasn't. Mostly due to my
own shortcomings and failure to live up to
images and ideals set of me.

I regret nothing. But, it's still sad.

I wonder if he ever dreams of me. And what is
contained in those dreams, if they do happen.
Or if it truly is what it appears to be and
I just do not exist for him anymore.

Things like this could drive me mad if I focused
on them for a long enough period of time.

Therefore, I shall not.

(no subject)

Yesterday, at work, I found a tiny mushroom
growing in the grass underneath of a
picnic table.

All by itself, surrounded by green.

Stories from my childhood tell me that rings
of mushrooms were meant for faeries. That they
were sacred places.

What does a single mushroom mean?