September 17, 2008 § Leave a comment

I watched the smoke escape out of a crack in this place, drifting out in a way I can’t or won’t. Imprisoned in or committed as I am to this prison – asylum. This while I heard Gilmour convince me I’d gone Comfortably Numb. It felt desperately familiar to a lot of other times and prophetic in some sense weighed down by a terrible reaasurance.

So what else? What I wanted came to me today and I was inspired by a good bout of teaching. Decent score for one day in my life…


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You are currently reading Drifting at Pocketful of matters grey.


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