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

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Torture of Writing

Spent the day doing various chores and staying out of my wife's way. Also tried to get some writing done. All in all I think I got about 1000 words out, but it was split between several projects, and the words weren't all that good. Sigh.

Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better.

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