A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- brittle weeds, dust and rusting metal Bob Marley in my ears, but between what he has to say through my headphones about spirituality and about love, he's not doing me any favours today. Nice optimistic things, hopeful sentiments, the kind that i've been tempering myself to not seize on so quickly so that i can avoid that feeliing of chasing mirages. I think i'll spin the new Cure. the sun isn't beating down as hard this summer, but i still prefer to remain out of its sight. 4:38 p.m. - 2004-07-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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