
MEMBER SINCE: April 2005
occupation: Programmer
makes me sad: Wasted talents, republicans
crush: all the ones in my faves
makes me happy: all sorts of things
into: carrots
"Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patters that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery."
The Road
Cormac McCarthy
The Road
Cormac McCarthy





























Wolf