Rambled thinking
Call me drunk or detached in my reasoned reality, but I need some flight in fantasy right now. It's been a bad, sad somber day.
On these kind of days, I wonder: what would it have been like (not to have been kept - because for the adoptee, that's never the option) to have been adopted by someone else.
Is life really that much different when you're loved and protected?
Do colors seem brighter and smells smell cleaner?
Are people prettier and homes dreamier?
Is the world really different when the stamp on the head doesn't read: "rejected"
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