Begin again when you know the words.
1/7/03 10:48 pmAgain, a day of days and things and quiet madness while creeping into street corners.
There are things I love, and things I do not, but most people don't understand which is which.
I wonder what possessed me to write of my father as though he were no longer counted among the living. It's not as though he died or anything. He's not that old.
There are things I love, and things I do not, but most people don't understand which is which.
I wonder what possessed me to write of my father as though he were no longer counted among the living. It's not as though he died or anything. He's not that old.