I think I have lost my silly. Not completely. But mostly. I hope I will get it back again. As I hope I will get my travel on again one day. But back to the silly.
For some reason, I don't find myself yearning to jump in a pile of leaves, splash in a puddle, make snow angels, jump on a bed, take pictures in a photobooth making faces - that sort of thing. Silly string holds no shelf space in my life.
This is not to say that I am not still young(ish) at heart. I still enjoy playing games of all kinds, finding little things that interest me for hours (well, at least a few minutes). I enjoy rainbows and sunsets (still like them more than sunrises, I wonder what that is about) and like imaginary worlds of all shapes, sizes and flavors. I still like to play.
Can silliness be brought out in someone? I think so. Like all things, in my world philosophy, silly is a choice. That being said, silly often breeds silly.
Maybe I have just misplaced it. Or perhaps I am just being silly.
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