The sun melts everything into puddles... even my skin feels like it's melted off my bones into a pile of steaming mush.
Jack Kerouac rescues me from the heat momentarily, with his ambling tales of being on the road, exploring an unforgiving landscape with its lashes of adventure and unturned corners.
I am restless, anxious, yearning for something I can't name. Something fresh and new. Something engaging and utterly fulfilling. Something that takes me to new heights.
What is time but a man-made ticking that measures moments in numbers. More numbers to rule our lives. More ways to keep track of the inane clutter that defines us.
I am tired, and I resign myself.
Jack Kerouac rescues me from the heat momentarily, with his ambling tales of being on the road, exploring an unforgiving landscape with its lashes of adventure and unturned corners.
I am restless, anxious, yearning for something I can't name. Something fresh and new. Something engaging and utterly fulfilling. Something that takes me to new heights.
What is time but a man-made ticking that measures moments in numbers. More numbers to rule our lives. More ways to keep track of the inane clutter that defines us.
I am tired, and I resign myself.
SYNFULL
Los Angeles, CA
January 2004
JUL 17, 2005 07:52 PM
thank you for the kind words, it means a lot to have someone feel what i write. sometimes it's hard for me to express these things that i write in the normal everyday paths of communication, so if someone reads them and gets them, it feels really special... and your response to my newest words, well 
(hey, you look very cute in your new profile pic again. bye!)
