Saturday, June 30, 2012

Music and mood, untangling my moment of real and make-believe. Charaters we hear are pieces of ourselves we have not yet discovered.

I am as small as a kitten's slipper left behind the door,
stuffed between the locks mewing a little more;
I am curled up like a kitten's sock
balled up for the next play,          
I am ambushed and fatigued from that which was my day.
{a.currie}
Copy Right 2012 PomonaLIFE, all rights reserved

The greatest song they every wrote (NIN)
HURT
Sung by Johnny Cash

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