baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Reintroduction I am me. Someone who held his mother's hand as she died. Brushed her gray, silvery hair behind her ears and felt her skin grow cool. Everything has been pushed aside by this moment. And nothing has ever been so simple and confusing. My past stretches out in sheets, my future in waves. Valleys and plains and plateaus that seem too much trouble to cross. I'm nuetral personified. Neither creeping forward, nor rolling back. 3:29 p.m. - 2003-09-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||