A Journal of Sorts
"I met a girl who sang the blues and I asked her for some happy news but she just smiled and turned away I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before but the man there said the music wouldn't play and in the streets the children screamed the lovers cried and the poets dreamed but not a word was spoken..." ~ Don McLean ~ silence consumes me sometimes, for better or worse, for richer or poorer... silence can fool us, misrepresent... I could adore her even when I appear to ignore her... silence can disarm, to some extent (to a certain extent?... bftp or nightmare... but first somebody has to care to know somebody has to care to know somebody has to share to know ask me if I care)... oh, oh, but then where does it go?... strangeness consumes me somtetimes, for whatever... this day was it was happened past it passed this day was it was gone at last so fast this was the day I was going to do something do something about it this was the day I was going to declare I don't want to live without it this day was it was it really was a day this day this day was it was it used to be a day yesterday this was to be the day I began again again this was the day this was to be the day I stopped drowning (nevermind) |
audios literata edibles gardens oddends linkage |
work,
work, local radio Expanded Universe by Robert A. Heinlein food wantlist READ DISCLAIMER FADE TO BLACK an odd array of links (and still growing) |
(TO LEARN MORE ABOUT WHAT THIS IS, CLICK ON THIS LINK)
JOURNAL INDEX |
TURN THE PAGE |
THE SAME-TIME MENU BAR - FOR EACH GARDEN AROUND THIS SAME TIME NEW KIT WORKLIFE LIFETIME JOURNAL HEARTBEAT WANTS |
