For Lance my Love

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The other day lance and I went ot the city to find our purpose in life. First we went to the statue of liberty and ask her for her tired and poor and weary. She looked at us and said that we were too late and to look in the jails. so we went to the jail and were mistaken for pot heads, after one of the fellow seeker cleared up the

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yay becky made up a story about me

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or did that really happen? Ah the sad sweet nostalgia of what never was but could have been, had some small thing but changed the world. If a butterfly but flapped her wings, half a world away. If the planets shifted just an inch. The clouds wrote letters across the sky in words that never lie: THIS IS TRUTH TO LIVE AND LOVE, TO TAKE WHAT FADE OR THE GODS MAY GIVE,GREET PASSIONS EBB AS WE SPEED ITS FLOW, TO HAVE AND HOLD AND IN TIME LET GO~ rosalind "this side of paradise"

Lance, you are the shit

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Oh, the elusive butterfly. I wonder if she had a twitch what havoc would be wrought upon our sad existance.