It's a cold January morning, which I know without having to go outside.
The birds scramble around the near-empty feeders.
I'm drinking hot coffee from an orange mug.
Making plans. Lists.
Listing. Listening to:
"It would be this, it would be this."
I made no resolutions this year, so my January is freed up for hearing this song on repeat. May you enjoy similar small pleasures.
That is oddly compelling. Like.
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