Du er ikke alene. Over 411.000 virkelige indlæg fra personer, der har stået overfor udfordringer og fundet løsninger. Læs en tråd, del en sejr, giv et tip — dine ord kan være det skub, som nogen behøver i dag.
oh the fluffy white clouds. The rolling bundles of vapour pushed across the sky by the wind. I wish I was light and airy. I could float up to the clear cool sky and be pushed by the current rather than being rooted in this office being battered by a storm of inquiries. I am at the edge of a furious hurricane that wants to examine my very roots.
I wish I could be free up there in the cool breeze. I wish I could be released from the here and now to be able to move off to explore the wonders just the other side of the horizon. Rather, I am locked into this self-cleaning oven contemplating the past and inspecting the blisters and welts of the past.
Det er et stykke tid siden, du var aktiv på denne side. Forlæng venligst din lektion nedenfor
Du er logget ud pga. manglende aktivitet.
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