 |
At some point one of us buried our friendship.
Well, one of us left it out in the open, exposed to the elements, and it died.
I buried it.
I bury it every time I think to call you and don't.
I feel strange having something so hot and dead smelling in the middle of my cool little paradisum. The new green things are growing and the sun is out and yet there's that terrible niggling smell in the back of my nasal passages. I smell the death of so many good ties I thought I had with you, I thought I had with a lot of people. But there are no ties, not really, they all seem to pale and die down. Once it starts to rain or if the sun comes out and scorches the earth a little the ties are...less reliable, faded, old.
Like usual I have nothing to complain about and still that smell, that smell, that smell! It keeps me awake at night...well, not if I take a few melatonin, hit the yoga for a good 15 or 20 and try to relax. Better living through pharmaseuticals.
Well, I'm gonna put away the shovel for now but I'll keep it close at hand, just in case I need it and I might.
6:33 AM
Powered by  | | English | | Albanian | | Arabic | | Bulgarian | | Catalan | | Chinese | | Croatian | | Czech | | Danish | | Dutch | | Estonian | | Filipino | | Finnish | | French | | Galician | | German | | Greek | | Hebrew | | Hindi | | Hungarian | | Indonesian | | Italian | | Japanese | | Korean | | Latvian | | Lithuanian | | Maltese | | Norwegian | | Polish | | Portuguese | | Romanian | | Russian | | Serbian | | Slovak | | Slovenian | | Spanish | | Swedish | | Thai | | Turkish | | Ukrainian | | Vietnamese |
|