Dust and seeds

A woman told me that I wasn’t ready to shoot for the stars. It’s better to not be depressed first. I’m thinking that if I’m in a hole, what better thing to focus on than the sky? Walk before flying? Nah. 

A man told me that I shouldn’t.  I should look after baby animals, backpackers. Hide in warmth and safety of a tropical town. I thought, I don’t want to  nourish you and rot away. 

A woman disliked me for asking a question nicely. To win her over I lied. Acted someone she’d recognise as nice. Is this a kindness?

A man told me I couldn’t. I would cry and crumble, he supposed. I sure do a lot of crying. But I think of gold dust. Seeds.

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