And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way Weighing my pockets with stones of longing |
I woke up this morning after an hour-long dream about the end of the world, and then got this e-mail: "to love the space where love once lived is a pathetic hobby to have... like a brick wall to a brief kiss of the wind we experience some moments of high and enlightenment... take good care, peace an much love... tal" ...But what does it all mean?? Theo says: "We brick walls should remember this: as we press forward in our wallish lives, the wind will blow from time to time. It will blow again. Why else would flying a kite be so much fun?"
Perplexing at 10:07 a.m. |