baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hiya! So, I've been wondering what it would take to get me back here. Here, being, this state of writing. well, let's just clarify for starters: Mack the Knife 6:46 pm long shadows on the front grass. Mustard yellow. Flourescent magentas. Whispy reflections in copper. These moments, I find myself talking to Mom. Asking for some innane piece of advice- the next 35-years-sort. All the while leaning on the grass and spying through the branches. As if the other side of the conversation is out there-due to come in any second. Any second now. The biggest change? Time. Time is now personified. Rather-the passage of time. I can see the seconds flying by. Every godamn second-waving at me like a six-year-old looking through a train window. C-ya, bro! We're out! Rye guys those seconds. Suffice to say that there's a constant humm. And you learn to face and embrace it. 6:01 p.m. - 2003-09-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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