Or Mary, or Jane? Or Maryjane?
Anyone but now or here or how.
I don't like sorrow. And it's all I know, and there is no reason really.
Even from the ancient days when I was very young the world made me ache.
Simplicity is my own tragedy. A full moon. A stark bird. A winter sunset. Sorrow in my bones.
Perhaps I am a piece of it and not supposed to be a person at all.
Maybe I'm just missing.
Can I be the leaves and the sun and the moon and the laughing and the squeaking swings?
Can I be many? I don't like one.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Can I be Frank?
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9 screams:
Can I be you?
This is brilliant.
Unreal. Suzanne, you get me every time.
Fantastic.
I think the answer is: you have no choice, of course you may.
but, young lady,, you are..
the first couple sentences really drew me in!
Oh, my God. I love this blog. Just found you.
Seems we've both noticed the same thing...that it's so strange to be a person.
Somehow, this one resonated even more than normal. Something about the line "Maybe I'm just missing."
Too true sometimes.
This is brilliant.
Work from home India
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