Existence is memory – a rope binding us to points along the way. In a secret cave inside my self, I fell. No rope to hold, I peer out from forgetfulness, from emptiness. There are no tears without an eye. Today is a good day to go home.
Existence is memory – a rope binding us to points along the way. In a secret cave inside my self, I fell. No rope to hold, I peer out from forgetfulness, from emptiness. There are no tears without an eye. Today is a good day to go home.