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Specters forged of tissue and sticky paper.
When the sun becomes obscured by some thin cloud coverage, should we all fret that the world will die for lack of sunlight as he might (our sun) never return to us?
Folly – folly that is all consuming and crippling – who can sit and enjoy the shade if they fear that the sun will never shine again, plagued by their thoughts that wake up the harpy-butterflies of anxiety in their core?
Every period of my life,where a musical accompaniment marked the occasion, felt significant and had its very own sensation or vibe.
It is hard to imagine this time in my life having a feeling or any sense of anything.
Perhaps its time to find a new band. Add a new sound track to propel me into a distinct sense of feeling for this chapter. Add some movement to what feels like a stagnant pond in a defunct farmstead.
I will create a playlist and label it: ESCAPE
Not one song from my past will find a place in its line up.