i keep looking for the words to express the thing that boils somewhere inside of me. i hear it sung to me on the bus and whispered in the quiet moments that seep into everyday. but tonight, here in this room, they have left me. tomorrow i will try harder to hear that which needs to be told and i will fetch it in my net, bring it back here and let you all see. maybe it will be worth the wait. or maybe it will be just like everything else, mediocre at best.
goodnight
2 comments:
In echoed voices rambling past our quotations and surreal notions. That screaming pestulance which delivers me to the most insane places and yet here I am, writting of the notion that our voices play God to our path, that discerningly we play the cunundrum of existence, good day to you
such ramblings could only be the workings of one, good day to you too sir. what are you doing 2 more 0 night. the motherly unit is coming to our abode...
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