This journal wanders about. It's poetry, reflections, snippets from other stories and ideas of others, and my own pot luck thoughts reflecting the transparent thinking of this post-traumatically stressed, majorly depressed social phobic before and after my breakdown.
April 12, 2011
How stung and sorry was Everyman when, like mist, values disappeared and like vapours, people became unmanageable. What we shared was a memory in books, googled ever day, discarded photos on hard drives passed on. There were the whiffs of promises and proclamations and declarations made. They were unphotogenic moments in a long nightmare.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment