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Showing posts from April, 2014


the white table

The days are not long. The nights are short. Guitars are hiding in cases, with scraps of paper tucked inside. The pen is full. There is a fresh notebook, with creamy pages. The little white desk is in the middle of the living room, a cascade of receipts and laundry perched on it.

I clean it off, have lunch as it stares back at me. This focal point, this fulcrum where my thoughts become real, this cheap folding table from Ikea. It is familiar, and patient.

a virus

the sky is falling (frogs, rabbits and pigs)

rainy days and mondays (run and find the one who loves me)

mannequins (you can't go back)

best personal blogs
best personal blogs