Sentences that start with ‘I want…’ have a lot of power. And every time I have made a statement using those words sprinkled lavishly with a deep need, the universe has found a way to give me what I have asked for.

Fool that I am, never contented with what I have, always wanting more, always curious to know what is behind the veil that clearly screams out a warning of do not enter. Is it the curiosity that is bad; or my need to exercise it?

But I am running ahead of myself. This was the phase where all was good, exciting, fun – add more adjectives you can think of and I am sure it was all that and more.

This was the time I was the fawn, joyously springing in the green meadows, my sense of survival dim, my freedom and happiness grand, blissfully ignorant of my folly.


12 thoughts on “Fool

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