..it's strangely weird seeing you in that manner. So...vulnerable, helpless, and painful. Almost as if time had a recollection, and you were there, burrowing in like a little girl once more. An episode that I'll never be able to witness. It makes me wonder, how you were like. If time could be bent, would we have been able to relate better? You know, deep within, I really wish to be a friend.
The dried stains tell of hurt, but yet I can also relate to the other side of the coin as well. And this, I have no answer of reconciliation to both.
Before long, that mechanism of escapism would do its work again. But I have to make it stop. Its damages and effect reaches far into the untold future. But for the moment now, it'll have to wait. I just got to make and discipline this inner boy to get some work done...with the accompaniment of Corrine May. Her songs seem to slow time down.
It's off to warring with pencil and rubbers once again then.
The old broken melody, blowing through the trees of Eden.
They say the heart of man is too far gone to save... yet in the quaint humdums of the neighbourhood, in the midst of gains and losses, joys and heartaches, pleasure and pain, friends and foes, battles lost and won, you can just hear that quiet whisper, of an amazing grace....upon this unworthy life.