I never make French Toast anymore. Pancakes either. What is that? What to call it... Laissez-faire? Non. Change. That's what it is, change.
I miss the effortlessness with which I used to do things. The freedom of ambition with which I used to carry myself before Bali. Wold on the lamb. Like a convertible in fourth-gear control, and command of my bristling life was under a firm reign hold. And now this. This floundering back at the nest. This upsets me to the brim, I think. Maybe I should start making French Toast again.
