Thursday, July 9, 2009

Rest

Violin sounds.

And now, I've forgotten the rest.

Sofya's tired eyes rest on mine. My eyes, inscrutable, rest on hers.

Agitated, in the agitation of day, I've forgotten everything. Everything, I have forgotten.

Let all experience inspire you. Don't let it stifle you. And the reason why I've kept experience in the singular is because all experiences are tied: connected but bound, truthful but all so full of lies. In the end, it is you who must remain.

Then a respite, in a slowly retreating cascade.

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