Oh hello When I leave the house, all I see are empty streets, cold, blank exteriors, and slabs of concrete. Things in my life seem impermanent, unstable, flimsy: like the chair that I am sitting on will, over time, disintegrate; the table, too, will not last. The plant on my desk is always close to death.
Ok I love this - a fan
like a beam of light to read how you write