Worms on the road

I like Sunday mornings. I like them better when they are sunny. And its not the first day of daylight savings time. It really throws me off. Its all good though, I guess.
The birds are starting to sing at sunrise. The robins are doing their morning song. I’m surprised that there are a bunch of them eating the worms on the road right now; there are a ton of them.
It rained a lot last night and the worms are migrating across the road. I don’t know why they do that. Sometimes I feel like a worm after the rain. Sometimes I feel like I’m crawling somewhere and I’m not sure to where or why. Maybe the worms know better than I. I’m not sure. They probably do.
Everything around me is so beautiful, when you really think about it. I don’t often notice it though. I try to, but, I guess, if you have to try then its not really them same as just feeling it. Sure, some might say its something you can learn. That’s fine and all, but I think its probably better to have some kind of innate appreciation for good and beauty.
I just finished reading “The Stranger”. I worry that I’m a stranger sometimes. I do lack some morals and some ethics. I don’t know.
Tonight I shall put on a mask for a ball and it will feel totally natural.

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