[brother, there on the other end, your warm despair, your laughter heal what they name without care. you swim through the same stream on a foreign spot, yet no farther away than a yellowed lifesaver's width. were i in command of the clouds, they'd rain silver linings on you, so you'd look ahead and see and grasp the drops of your art de vivre.]
acts of limited intention and ability
Saturday, May 2, 2009
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