The smell of lilacs today made me think of this, which I wrote last year in a fit and frenzy of spring fever. Breathe deeply, those lilacs are intoxicating!
F By Maucherat de Longpre, Raoul-Victor-Maurice (artist); L. Prang & Co. (publisher) (Flickr: Bouquet of Lilacs) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons I have spring fever and senioritis (and I’m not a senior in age or in school). I am distracted by distance and sentiment and by the moment, the present, the past, the future. My mind is a swirl and I can not focus. I repent and I sin. I fight and I forgive. I plan for the future and remember the past. I try to build, perhaps on shaky ground. I flirt, I sulk. I run, gasping for air, I rest. I type, I wait for a chime.
I plan a trip. I plan for school. I make plans with a friend for a fall adventure. I imagine an alternative universe where I have it together. I smell lilacs and I am distracted again. I smile for three and…
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