There's a dullness to each day that I can't shake. I can't get it off my skin. It sticks to me like sap. But you can't bottle this stuff up, sell it, and pour it on some pancakes. That would be too easy. That would make the dullness delicious and worth it.
It's not delicious. And I haven't figured out whether or not it's worth it. It doesn't seem like it should be. But maybe the future will thank me. Maybe the vivid future will know itself largely due to the dreary present days. My, that's an optimistic outlook.
Meanwhile, the sky outside this room remains. The only thing that could cover those impressive peaks are the unassuming clouds. They go wherever they're told to go, not bothering enough to care about likes or dislikes. They just are. Pick up on the clues, Meg, and become what you've always been. Nothing separates you from the world above.
Not everything or everyone needs to shine all of the time. A lack or a loss is simply the sign that one is about to gain an entire vibrant sky. Just wait, just wait.
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