<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/14684623?origin\x3dhttp://flyed.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Friday, August 22, 2008

The sky, it seems, mourns with me.
Insipid; it's blue linen washed grey, enshrouding the city and it's oblivious denizens with a
gloom, entwined with the threads in the fabric of life.

Bleakness manifested itself in physical form today.

Who drew a curtain across the Sun?
What audacity... Surrender yourself!
We know: this is how the world should look like,
because this is how the world is.
We know, and we're angry.

Hope arrives in plastic boxes;
Hope arrives in envelopes of laminated paper;
Hope arrives in molded cheap metal.

Turn on the lights.

Labels:


she's not here @

12:15 AM