|
|
I have to stop setting my heart on impossible things, because once it's set, it doesn't want to let go. Which reminds me of a song that I somehow forgot, despite the fact that I've listened to it so many times, though it has been a long time since my last listening... remembering it now is both bad and good. Now I daydream about things that I know nothing about, skirting my way around the specifics. As for the Forsytes, it's hard to know who to sympathize with, which, I guess, is the way life works. Poor, sad Soames was breaking my heart until things went terribly wrong. It's important not to decide that someone will love you just because you want them to. Characters in books hardly ever seem to know that. It's also important not to decide that someone won't love you just because you want them to. That's something I hardly ever seem to know. Oh, I'm being silly. Sundays make it easy. I think they're getting longer. This one seems to have begun around seven o'clock Saturday evening... p.s. *
|