Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

-Langston Hughes

*thanks to s for the poem

Habits

I know that in a few years, or sooner still, I'll look back at this time and giggle about it with my friends. Wonder how I could have been so silly, so confused and so.. immature?

To be fair to myself, I wouldn't have imagined myself to be in the situation that I am in a few months ago. I didn't think I could. Or maybe the idea was germinating in my head all along. To rebel, to experiment. To not be boxed in.

I keep coming to the realisation again and again that we are all stupid creatures of habit. From missing pale blue fluffy towels that we abandoned in far corners of the world to habits that are of greater consequence in our lives.

M, paternal wisdom I fear may be true. I do think we would fall in love with donkeys if we lived with them for three months.