blather
tree_time
Dis Here is what I have concluded.

You, my dearest darling, for whom I would give everything, live on "tree time." Much like the mighty, giant Sequoia, three weeks is but the blink of an eye to you. Whereas I live on "mayfly time," where ten minutes is like three weeks.

Is it any wonder I am so impatient? Is it any wonder that days without word are like years in a desert?

I am dying of thirst for you, and you cannot see.

You are encased in a thick, earthy mud, waiting for the rain.
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egger . 050725
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other teatime 090207