Friday, December 28, 2007
Oh dear,because it's always been me.All this time.It's only been me.Now it's really just me.I'm angry at myself,at my own thoughts.But they wouldn't be completely wrong,I was just getting used to,what people call,"a world without you"or maybesolitude.It'd happen sooner or later anyway,might as well now.Then there wouldn't be so much trouble then,much easier to let go.Okay, I'm talking to myself again,because it's always been me.Perhaps this is a much better ending,as it always has.Or not,because you can't end what never started.Hush, dear,so we can all listen to Georgian rhymes.About the farmer who kept cherries in his baskets,in a village full of cherry trees,across a bridge laden with cherries.Hush, dear,as we lie on Georgian grass,and forget that you're not by my side.For so long,I never realised,I've been blogging on Georgian font,seriously.What irony.Hush, dear,because I am as dead as you are.But we'll survive, won't we.But I know it isn't me.
I'd love to ask a fallen angel.
11:59 PM; `dead.Y