freedom is the freedom to choose whose slave you want to be.

Friday, April 21, 2006


Words are changed, particles of dust are displaced, air is breathed in, objects are touched. Somewhere there is you, living, breathing, being, and this thought is enough to thrill me, to leave me ecstatic, and then suddenly alone. You are learning, growing in my absence, but somewhere, there is you, there is an existence that matters to me.

On top of a heap of morbidity, dreams are dreamt and sleep is yearned for. Deep into the night my abandoned head is resolving its issues on its own, it's dealing with problems, it's dealing with the strange quiet that haunts it during the day and its playing Live.

A mosquito leads me into my room. Summer is here.

Somewhere: The space that's left here is bigger than you. It's you and I, combined.


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