not sure where to post this, but it was way too long to text.
anonymous
February 27 2008, 08:02:01 UTC
Hey Anna,
I was trawling through my notes from last year in an effort to be organised for this rural thing I've started and found this from one of my first weeks last year... this time last year i guess.
"I am watching the world go by, sitting leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree.
The light is casting across the front of the Museam , it is summer coolness in the air. You can watch it pass away like the mist, the emerging green and hazyness. There is the sound of cicadas in the air- midgies visible wafting in the shadows of the trees. A busload of kids are chasing eachother past the lampposts. There is style in all its variety going by. The reaslisation that all these people got up this morning, arranged themselves in a way that identifies them and their purpose for the day. And now they walk by., An old man crouches by the tree beside me, smoking with joy a short cigarette. A bike whips by. Stubbies. I really do love stubbies.
I worry. Then I worry that I worry. And then I think on the words of my prophet, Anna, mother teacher friend. It isn’t too complicated. It is us and God. Sit back relax kid. Be awkward, gangly, growing. Be wrong. Be right beside him. "
Great seeing you on sunday. You're my favourite incubator. D.
I was trawling through my notes from last year in an effort to be organised for this rural thing I've started and found this from one of my first weeks last year... this time last year i guess.
"I am watching the world go by, sitting leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree.
The light is casting across the front of the Museam , it is summer coolness in the air. You can watch it pass away like the mist, the emerging green and hazyness. There is the sound of cicadas in the air- midgies visible wafting in the shadows of the trees. A busload of kids are chasing eachother past the lampposts. There is style in all its variety going by. The reaslisation that all these people got up this morning, arranged themselves in a way that identifies them and their purpose for the day. And now they walk by.,
An old man crouches by the tree beside me, smoking with joy a short cigarette. A bike whips by. Stubbies. I really do love stubbies.
I worry. Then I worry that I worry. And then I think on the words of my prophet, Anna, mother teacher friend. It isn’t too complicated. It is us and God. Sit back relax kid. Be awkward, gangly, growing. Be wrong. Be right beside him. "
Great seeing you on sunday. You're my favourite incubator.
D.
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