Walter thinks, there is a culpable feeling of something in the air tonight. He is not entirely sure what culpable means, but he enjoys the sound of the word; moreover he is uncertain as to which feelings are hanging in the lukewarm air of an Indian Summer, nibbling at his ears, but they have left him with a headache. Plus the fact that he is still ( Read more... )

oooh I know you never cared ( Read more... )

There are beaches I'm sure exist ( Read more... )

will i make it to the sea
from this dusty road
i am as dead and dry
as the gravel stones
you wore me down
right to the bone
so i cut my golden hair
and left you with a part
of me i didnt need anymore

Will you follow me west if you share the same dream ( Read more... )

Well the man inside the belltower sleeps the clock around again ( Read more... )

I thought i'd try my hand at this Inkthepage

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I want to speak to you in fine french words
Tell you the best of things
Sing the best of songs
Open up your ears,
Just like the way i'm opening up to this world
The next thing that's coming out my mouth
Hopefully isn't "Je ne sais pas?"

You wear death so brilliantly ( Read more... )

i joined awhile ago - but now i wanted to post something ( Read more... )

it isn't like i remember it anyway
mostly blank pages
with angry eyes
and faded sounds of
"please"
but that doesn't mean
i know what switch to hit
when my mind kicks
into overdrive
going over every time
you said goodbye
and left us to him
i can still feel it
like water in my lungs
and i flinch
at sudden ( Read more... )