Little or nothing is always about to happen. It won't kill us simply. This is the kind of day that those who love the day are loving. My death also will come as an injustice. My horizons have taken their sick leave, leaving us leisure enough and that's a promise.
Love is busy.
Life doesn't even have time for us. We are only how we learn to live with this. To be so shunned is a form of praise. Contempt of life is a way of caring deeply. We wake each morning as replicas of shadows.