Saturday, 12 September 2009
So he pulled out a brush and washed a streak of colour across the sky. And in a dark corner, deeply buried, a sad heart caught its light and slowly (thump-thump) began to revive. It grew stronger, and turned tentatively back to face the world; hesitant, delicately fragile, but no longer monochromatic.
Saturday, 5 September 2009
From afar, your walls will be smooth and your streets will be calm. No brightness in your lights; no bass left in your beat. Those sharp edges will soften, eroded by time and space. Until one day, I will forget you. Like you so easily let go of me. Until that day when this life is nothing more than a pretty picture I used to hang on my wall.
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