| into_the_silence | ||
| unhinged | even when my lips are still my mind darts from thought to thought to plan to memory like a hummingbird, away from the stillness | 120805 |
| ... | ||
| Tourist | Even in the still small hours of the night, Long after the Sun has left us drifting, the background Hum is Always Audible. In the Cities it comes accross as a 60 cycle tone of the power on the grid leaking out of 10,000 streetlights attempting to keep the stars at bay. While in the Distant Wild Spaces, it comes accross as the sighing of sky carressing Rocky Crag and Piney Bough. Nowhere have I found Silence Pure. | 120806 |
| ... | ||
| unhinged |
i've tried for over a year to be gracious and leave it alone, but my childhood habit of picking at scabs has never quite left me every time you pick the scab off a wound, it comes back thicker, stronger |
120807 |
| ... | ||
| unhinged | (i guess it hasn't been a quite a year; at this point time has blurred together into one big shitty mess) | 120808 |