Papa Monkey's cousin (21-ish, student, aaaaalllll the "All-American"-isms) was found in an alley.
I met his mom afterwards; a woman undone.
I cannot and will not imagine what she thinks about.
I will not.
Because I cannot. I can not.
Baby Monkey anticipates JOY.
His first and consistant reaction to anything (everything) new or not, is the SMILE and the BOUNCE... what wonderful thing will my little self now experience?
Imagine that, the expectation of... JOY...
The two situations, the dichotomy, it's messing with me. Big time.
Some days I wave.
16 hours ago