A dream; we are looking at a house with the most beautiful garden, lots of trees, very green. My mom points through a clearing and asks about a place next door that she can see through there. I take a look and get the impression from the buildings and the clothes that the people are […]Read More The World.
What was this meant to be, how was this meant to go? There was a story somewhere in there, something with structure and something worth telling. Now, not so much anymore. Tonight was a mess of words that involved complaining. Something to do with how things never work out the way I was hoping, asking […]Read More The Fool.