Here instead. The other one feels like a relative dead and buried.

Like to go back now would be opening up a coffin and carrying out a conversation with a deader.

*dust*

I read this scribbled on the wall of a bus today ( Read more... )

I'm lying alone with my head on the phone ( Read more... )

I dream through a wordless, familiar place ( Read more... )

I'll bet you think the room was empty ( Read more... )

One Day I'll Fly Away

(Satine:)
I follow the night
Can't stand the light
When will I begin to live again

One day I'll fly away
Leave all this to yesterday

What more could your love do for me
When will love be through with me
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends

Who's standing still or sinking,
drinking the deep drink.

In the ill-judged execution of the well-judged plan of things the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love rarely coincides with the hour for loving. Nature does not often say "See!" to her poor creature at a time when seeing can lead to happy doing; or reply "Here!" to a body's cry of "Where?" till the hide-and-seek has become an irksome, ( Read more... )

[somewhere i have never travelled ( Read more... )

( Read more... )