infinite&still;

July 14th, 2002 · 10 comments

It is raining outside; my window is open, and I am disheveled this morning.
(Smiling through wild hair and crooked clothing. Some of you deserve dark and lovely things.)

{ 10 Responses to infinite&still; }

  • You’re a genius photographer.

    I’ve said it a million times.

    I always mean it.

    xxxxx

  • quikslvr says:

    Great shots, and so clear!

    Makes me wish I was there.

  • *YOU* are a dark and lovely thing :)

  • herdesire says:

    those are amazing.

  • ilwarden says:

    I wish to sit with you by those waterfalls, and have my hands nibbled on my ravenous ducks.

    • Ta says:

      j j j!! looking through old {old! these, so old!} journal entries this night, just me & a glass of wine & this hot little heart, smiling, sad, loved and left, laughing (particularly at this thread); and here we are, ten years gone. just wanted to point you here again, all these years later. you remain one of the few constants in my life, and all the care you’ve given me over the years has built up the way water wears away through stone.

      but, you know. in reverse. ;)

      all love.

    • ilwarden says:

      My beautiful angelheart. I know. Time rushes past us so rapidly. I remember it all. I feel it all. This night, it’s me and a bottle of 10% beer called “Dominus Vobiscum”. (I bought it only b/c it reminded me of Spartacus. And thus, Andy.) Where did all that time go? I know, but i don’t…? If that makes any sense. I’ll always be here. As long as this flesh holds true. You’ll always have my loyalty & love, and i’ll always stand as a silent (or not so) sentinel, when you need me. Even if you don’t. Especially when you do. Always. All ways.

      But i’m wondering about the whole stamina thing now. ;)
      And the ducks.
      Not the geese.

      ;)

      (But especially the waterfalls.)

    • ilwarden says:

      Man. Now the house is quiet & still. I’ve got this wonderful buzz. And i’m in a woefully nostalgic mood. Remember when we’d used to talk on the phone? Aliens in the trees? Or that shoulder strap on your dress on vidcam that would-not-stay-up? ;) So fragile we were back then. So ruined by our lost loves. Those ghosts of our past. Remember: “The Hell With Love: Poems to mend a broken heart”?
      Ah, so many memories. So much affection for you. My dear, absent friend. If i don’t get to meet you in person before the end, it will be a dis-service to everything i deem of value. Hearts.

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