(paper, butterflies cut from a catalogue page I had saved for at least ten years, for some special project)

I just woke up with bright sunshine seeping through the tarpaulin, maybe today the sunshine will last. On Sunday it was pretty much gone by the time I got outside. It made the day no worse, though, but maybe today the light will make this day a bit better. (Also, on Sunday, we didn't go inside the castle after all, we got stuck rambling at the castle café until too tired to move. So I still need to do that home town sightseeing thing some other day.)
On Monday I was told that the world is a difficult place for me because I think in a wiser way than the majority of people, and the world just isn't made for people who get it. It was nice and sad at the same time. There's not much hope in the world if I'm one of the wise, my wisdom is very limited, but I'm glad to hear from a near stranger that I have a clue of what's really going on in life and the world, and I'm doing my best trying to make it. I know many of you who come here understand what I'm talking about. I don't really know how to explain, I'm terrible at explaining things.
Fragments, just fragments.
I've considered myself a maker of things rather than an artist, but I no longer know if there's a difference.