A Bright Clearing I AM.

There are worn-out circular paths around that bush. I can't help it... venturing off has always been my nature.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Wooden Planks That I Love.

No, it isn't like that at all... at least not on the actual surface.

No look of despair nor indescribable anguish crosses over their faces. Voices do not really waver so. He does not really roughly take her into his arms and sigh as if it's the last time. No, he does not really suddenly leave her in a now-cold and absent embrace.

Sigh. Not really...

But if the mind can project its workings... this is how it will register on the white screen of reality.

1 comment:

dissinea said...

I know what you mean. :P