sometimes on random Mondays or happy Tuesdays or bored Wednesdays and freezing Thursdays, in between the Fridays and Sundays, i catch myself wondering at the lack of love in my heart for this city. this city of mine.
there is nothing wrong with it.
it's really very beautiful.
and you can't beat that lake.
i just
don't
love it.
sometimes i beg for it to prove itself to me, to try to win my love.
sometimes i work tirelessly, wandering it's streets looking for something about it to love.
but in the end, my heart is unmoved.
i am wondering whether this is ok.
and if it is not, what then?
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