Saturday, August 17, 2002

Bags packed and ready to go.
To routine and mayhem.
Confusing confidence.
Mask upfront.

I hate transition. As a concept. It ricochets off the insides of my head and wears out all the padding.
Of course, I reconcile myself pretty well when I have to. Just that tiny gap in the hedge I have difficulty jumping over. One leap and there we go...

Flying in mid-air, pray gravity doesn’t fail me. One more time, just this once…