Clothes line

It's as simple as taking a strand of hair from the keyboard.
It should not be more complicated than that.
To be able to choose what to do, to know what to be done next and to discover what matters to be discovered should be simple. There should neither be any fear nor apprehensions. There should only be a series of steps forward leading to an envisioned end.

It sometimes takes so long to know where to go. The destination is something always difficult to decide on. There are a lot of things to consider: is this place going to be cramped, is it going to be windy, will there be parties, will I be able to find a place to stay for three nights, will the bed be soft enough...
Things become blurry, and every day is an endless barking of dogs, and the weather flitting from sunny to cloudy. Then you worry if the clothes you hang will dry. There is always the gray or black or if people will notice the white.

She longs for simplicity. She longs for the joy of knowing that each minute leads her closer to a goal.
I long for the victories of doing things better than I thought I could, better than what has been set.

It is really as simple as knowing what should be desired.

Meanwhile, a blue dragonfly settles on the clothes line outside, and the sky seems to decide between rain or sun.