7.10.15
still there. still there. gone.
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Sunrises turning into sunsets. We live for these moments. Yet in the gathering darkness, I cannot get myself to look at our horizon with clear eyes.
I write to fill in my blank spaces, on sheets and sheets of silence, to think, to imagine, arrive at some resounding truth.
BECAUSE SOMETIMES, IT MAKES SENSE TO GO BACK.
I write to fill in my blank spaces, on sheets and sheets of silence, to think, to imagine, arrive at some resounding truth.
...
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2015
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October
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- another earth
- in a time of memories
- the love that loves us
- us against the world
- they're killing us
- to whom it may concern
- of skins and satellites
- what I think about when I watch you read
- singularities
- the comet
- i am no poet
- there we have been
- when inspiration comes
- autumn
- dalampasigan
- another fear
- when words fail us
- don't mess with a writer
- free space
- details
- of pens and permanence
- the thief
- still there. still there. gone.
- because as long as you love, there is hope
- on memories we burn
- pinball
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October
(26)
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