I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Things go from bad to worse, cycle repeats

So, not only did the drama at the council meeting suck the wind right out of the sails, now it seems the freelance wants to explode as well. We're going from doldrums to being caught in a whirlpool.

I'm about to start singing "O, Fortuna" from Carmina Burana.

Edit Oh, it's one of those, "We may need your help, please stand by while we hear back from everybody. Oh, BTW, we don't have any budget for 'art'," jobs. Greeeaaaaat.

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