The eyes see things that are, the mind sees things that are, that were and that that could be.
...you’ll say “fine” and ask me how I’m doing.
And then I’ll lie…
Golden haze… another morning, feels like yesterday.
“it’s the little sparks that fly and then land like dynamite…it’s just the simple things, pure incidentals…”
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map