Left-overs piled on hot rice and mixed. |
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibimbap พีบิมบับ (pheebimbap) At home in Thailand we do something similar. At home, we make rice and top it with whatever we didn't finish from the last meal. I finally decided to use June 2022's entries for my responses to other bloggers' entries. I tend to do this daily anyways and post in my weekly 'catch-all' blog (added to every day} "Porthole" .
Each entry to be brought to the notice of Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ and StephBee when they are running the Bard Blog Contest. For bitem:981150 sponsored by huser:webwitch and huser:sgcardin |
For
StephBee and Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ "People just don’t want to fall in love with a person they know they’ll outlive." It stings. This is the story prompt for "Write From the Heart - Story Contest" I should write something for the contest. Until then: I do think this also applies to many relationships, including pets. It also echos how nomads/refugees/students feel about a place they must leave. And the reverse... as one ages it's hard to fall for someone/something/someplace when you know you'll die soon. So... yeah... it's one reason why I gave up fighting to maintain an intimate relationship with Pan. The age gap was too much. May to September is awkward, May to December a tad ridiculous. Still, it had it's good points. We both needed stability. I learned a lot; hopefully, he did too. We keep in touch; that door's not locked. I also needed to learn to let go. I struggle with letting go. In the past I could sing "You can't hurry love" I waited and waited... And "love don't come easy"... been there too. "It's a game of give and take" which is what Pan and I worked on. The language and cultural barriers didn't help. Moving forward: "Love Knows Not Time" would be a good title for a new poem, story, collection. I need to keep my options open until the lid of the coffin closes. An old bluesy poem that's appropriate:
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