Sweet melancholy, money is the kink in the hose. I'm open to the idea that we can still be loving and open even entangled like this. Yet it keeps coming back to the Same feeling I guess, of dissatisfaction.
I just finished a four day stint of 'working'. Now I think it's time to drink a coffee and get on with the things I love - like making art and writing on Steemit.
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I know my little poem didn't really have a happy ending, but yes, the entirety of human consciousness might connect that lovingness and openness more easily without the kinks that money causes.