Ecstatic... Thoughts... Uncontrollably sporadic. Yet centered around one center... joy. In plush ripe tones, joy is rushing through my bones.
If joy were a color it would be purple pastel pretty like old women and young children both wear on Easter, smiling while having deviled eggs and drinking koolaid, chasing blown bubbles in the backyard. The young ones distracting hats fly off and the old ones laugh a contagious laughter that is to be shared by everyone there. The sun shines down upon them as all of their physical imperfections gleam beautifully... and inside... inside here I feel like this.
And I look outside my window and imagine the future purple pastel pretty moments of joy that I will one day have with my wife and my children, my friends and my family. I really look forward to those moments but I am thankful for the one I am having right now, this morning, alone, on my couch, overwhelmed by joy.
If joy were a color it would be purple pastel pretty like old women and young children both wear on Easter, smiling while having deviled eggs and drinking koolaid, chasing blown bubbles in the backyard. The young ones distracting hats fly off and the old ones laugh a contagious laughter that is to be shared by everyone there. The sun shines down upon them as all of their physical imperfections gleam beautifully... and inside... inside here I feel like this.
And I look outside my window and imagine the future purple pastel pretty moments of joy that I will one day have with my wife and my children, my friends and my family. I really look forward to those moments but I am thankful for the one I am having right now, this morning, alone, on my couch, overwhelmed by joy.