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

Thursday, May 31, 2007

From Zero to Buried in 20 Minutes

Last night I hit a point I hadn't been to in a long time. There were no vinyls on my desk when I left (with no prospect of them showing up when I was gone). This morning I finished up some other scutt work. Coasting good. A good day.

And then the avalanche started. And it's all do today by 3pm. Blech.

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