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The Noise Of Trouble
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
Thursday, March 29, 2012
the days become a senseless river flowing into the ocean
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It's always getting late.
Introduction
This blog is a virtual notebook of writing that I maintain as often as I can. Poems, stray lines, random observations, all co-exist here. Revisions occur as needed/deemed fit.
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Ultimate Truth
the days become a senseless river flowing into the...
The Way of the Bear
Create Reality.
Death of the World's Greatest Solipsist: A Novel N...
Unfortunate Love
...dying.
scene in progress
Things I've Been Meaning To Say To You
Love is inevitable, eventual.
As She Wakes
As She Wakes
Loneliness won't get me tonight.
resonance
The Ballad of Everyone
Fervent Faith
Night of the Dogs
This thesis argues with a faulty sense of a...
Unlikely Celebration
Your Morning Rapture
Conjecture
what there is to feel
Feral
Making Sense
When To Listen
getting to it
SALVATION
Life As A Transitory State
FYB, PM
Left in the Sun
ONLY WIND REMAINS
EX EX EX
The Forging of Iron.
Sounds of the Street.
What There Is To Talk About
Bea
The Tune In Tune.
Cold chamber of light An unwillingness to be see...
A Pair of Unrelated Thoughts
What the Mariner Knows
All words are generalized abstractions of inexpre...
a thought on the morning
Trees
RE: Hype/Buzz
Genealogy
Everything That Is & Never Was
A Statement On The Nature Of Time
For Lilies Everywhere
American Self Portrait
The Phone Is On The Hook
At the end of the day.
If we were better people we could discard languag...
Self Portrait: Rejected Pop Song (after Dean Rader)
Garden Flower (part 1, draft 1)
Why do you worry if life is passing you by? Sho...
He would only speak in past tense even though he ...
Elusive
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About Me
R
I'm an outgoing introvert, maybe you're one too.
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