I will one day die. On that day I will wake with peace in my heart. I will possess in it love. For myself, for my family, for my enemies. For everyone bearing across this small planet the millstone of his soul. For my friends there is not ink enough to accommodate my affections and . . . → full post
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Sick. I'm sick. I felt it today, lying in the park. The sky was so blue and deep. Even the stain over the city didn't look too bad, but it was what made me realize I'm sick. I'm just like that yellow stain, sulking at the edges of all that's good and pure. The world is bright around me and I have every comfort at my disposal. But I don't feel comfort.
Good Men Do Nothing
