Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Round Here

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you, angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. Well, I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back again, Where? I don't know. Maria says she's dying. Through the door, I hear her crying. Why? I don't know.
-Counting Crows


Anonymous Anonymous said...

This cat is mentally challenged and needs a good single cat home. If you sit in one spot all day and love to pet a cat, then this cat is for you.

6:05 PM  

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