i don’t think so…
the second friday of the fourth month, and that’s when you knew.
the stars were out and the lights were on the bridge. flashing red…the boat was in the water.
mountains in the background, but not the ones with snow on them, the ones with trees on them.
“ah ha”! said the child. “I have a good idea!”
65 degrees.
Al rules…
KMFDM Sucks!
prong site huh it sucks as well.
Ministry site some what right…
security watched in awe but it really didn’t mean much. the man with the tie was yelling as if nothing happened, and then everyone around him erupted.
time and effort. and disappearing.
a bookshelf with no knowledge. walking up the hill. a phone off the hook.
“do you remember the time?” they asked.
The sun had finally risen like an expecting friend, or maybe an enemy, I’d been impatiently waiting for what felt like an eternity. But it was only a night.
What it revealed was the age and decay that the somber evenings had hidden so well.
My love had aged and cracked. She wasn’t the fresh-faced girl who’d made me face my fears. She wasn’t the curious female who’d made me a man. She wasn’t the strong woman who’d made me give up my dreams.
She wasn’t the one who’d made me put the barrel beside my temple as I rest my head upon my pillow, looking out through our water stained window. She was no longer in control.
Crimson spread across the red dress she’d always worn on special occasions that had grown tight from years of content, cheap chocolate, and the recent end of her fertility.
And the sun had finally risen like a bystander, or maybe a suspect, to shine testimony and witness to my true eternity. But it was only a light.
I used to dream of being a pilot and as a child I’d dreamt of being a bird. I dreamt much too often and found that time was neither friend nor enemy. It was not concerned with my impatience, idleness, or inabilities.
Some things were not possible but an exit always was. That was always my relief - my safety net in this circus. And I’d grown weary and tired of walking that tight rope year after year.
- The Safety Net Jerome Silberman 1989