Monday, February 19, 2007
- 2:54 am
and sometimes, on summer days and westering afternoons, words seem so empty.
sometimes, on windy evenings, you hear a whisper of truth which afterwards rings hollow.
then again, eventually, on lazy saturdays, you hit and note true and pure, and think to yourself, this is it.
is it?
you tend to wonder.
unasked questions never were so loud.
fin
soon to come:
1) church infiltration cont'd
2) new house