What am I doing?

Inner peace feels like cherries in spring and the leaves in August. It's like scratching an itch. Like finding a perfect puddle of water.

20080107

Remembrance

My eyes are stapled shut.

I have no time to lose. Break the strips and hold your breath.

A universe before a jar of sand. A creature now, this. A pink ribbon. A comb on the dresser.

Our ends justify our means. Every second we obey, we believe, to the edge of the falls.

at 5:37 PM

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