The sun beats down hard against my pale skin. Weathered and dry, seasonably flushed...I feel true life being breathed into me. The arms of another coasting into my own in remembrance of another time in the same place. Isn't there love to be embraced inside the memory of a face? I drown my anxiety and fear of this all in the fact that once started, some great machines can not be stopped. You may push and pull on all it's gears and mechanisms, but they will not break free of the hold they have. In a way, I think that everyone can find some great opus in some simple thing, and maybe, for me at least, it's in seeing this place again; feeling that old familiar heat, walking over the city built on dust. I can once again smile at the brief, fleeting feeling of freedom and the comfort of the place.
More Blogs
-
0
Tuesday Oct 17, 2006
I hear them now, as they descend upon me. I am the leach in the groun… -
0
Saturday Oct 07, 2006
I float in other situations...and never have I sunk...but today, I tr… -
0
Sunday Oct 01, 2006
Now, to start off, what I need you to visualize is a lemon. Imagine t… -
0
Monday Aug 21, 2006
I know that you've always held me in a sacred place...after all, it w… -
0
Monday Aug 21, 2006
I drift down the street, closer to 11 than i'd rather admit...so I do… -
2
Friday Jul 21, 2006
Basically, anything below this post is all stuff i've written in the … -
0
Friday Jul 21, 2006
9:32 am. The Passenger awakes to find the drug inside of him. The wic… -
0
Friday Jul 21, 2006
Those passing moments breathed an uncertainty into me which I have ne… -
0
Friday Jul 21, 2006
the past is not a ghost, it is a coinciding event that is happening r… -
0
Friday Jul 21, 2006
I could have been a machinist. You were a musician. I became someone …