When it comes to homework, I’m doing fine. Getting a little ahead, it’s well worth it. However, my search for the birth parents has taken a hit: Franks procrastination has been reallocated from schoolwork —> calling the agency again.

How tired I felt | My life is easy

Figured I would feel tired tomorrow | I have a comfortable and warm bed

I know I should save my money, nothing but necessities for now | food is a swipe away

Hoping I’ll finish all my schoolwork | I have as much time as needed

Worried about my health | could have finished my pills months ago

Wondering what others lives are like | my life is easy

All the nights I stayed up into the early morning, what was it that I felt was unfulfilled. Why did sleep elude me?

Blank mind I have got
My friend shares her thoughts via pen
Yet no one may see

Blank mind I have got
All of the elusive stress
Kunsang hides it all

Blank mind I have got
Hope the pieces are falling
Into the best place

Blank mind I have got
This is when I need to sleep
Sigh inhale exhale

Blank mind I have got
A slate for the inner me
Drawing my being

Sitting in the warmth of light, my paper basking in the warmth of the writing, the symbols, which I set forth upon it. Lovingly, hence the warmth, do I glance at my creation. Perhaps it isn’t a son or a daughter, but it has my attention as if it were. Every minute detail, totally exposed in such a warm light, a completely natural light. A silence, I can hear my pencil against the composition notebook paper. Meant to be, true lovers, a threeway love story: the light, the paper, the pencil. All so accommodating to eachother, such a harmony: polygamists.