Standing at the edge of our city, a man could feel that we had made this place of streets and dwellings in the stillness of the desert, and that we had done a brave thing... Or a man could feel that we had made this city in the desert and that it was a fake thing and that our lives were empty lives, and that we were the contemporaries of the jack rabbits.
writer: n. One who gets drunk before noon, and throws rocks at small children.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
liv:
u never were responsible 
rin:
that is good. if my dude had a moustache i wouldn't even kiss him.