Monday, January 28, 2008
Hearing the gentle breeze of rain pattering on the wicker fence can only remind me of gathering pastures that desperately need a mountain dew to calm them down. Snow, corn syrup, broth..........all of these are obstacles in retaining the glorious resurgence of a once very obtrusive corn-cob pipe. Writing more would involve myself evolving into a switched twelve sixty.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Is it true that the truth comes to us whenever we want it? Can I go outside and trust that the truth is around every corner? How will the truth trust my truth that I am telling? I cannot figure out the confines of what seems to be the inner workings of things past where honesty inlies and where lying takes presidence. I am one to complicate what is real and keep in the dark what is to be in actuality the fakeness of reality. If only I knew what everyone else knew, I would have the upper hand (or an even hand, depending on how one looks at it). Quick to judge, moderate to relieve.