Tuesday, May 27, 2008

and yet

im sitting here at my desk my desk, you think that this is the kinda of job that you would want i like it i really do but i cant see myself doing this for the rest of my life

a boy and his father walk through the woods on the way back from the pond they had just fished from. the father looks over to his son and tell him about the time he was a boy, the son rolls his eyes. just as the father started to talk some thing caught their eyes it was a rock this rock was just there you would that someting as unimportant as a rouck would mean nothing but they stopped and looked at it until they both fell over it took them in it consumed ever thought that they have had prior. it was getting late the humidity rose you could taste the water in the air the rocdked moved and rolled like a turtle whos on its shell the leaves fell and the colors surrounded them so many colors that they have never seen before headaches were passed around like drugs the wind picked up the leaves and cut them all over a the boy managed to get a couple of words out "leaf cuts have shit on paper...keep trying and one day youll get there" the father laughed they both woke up came back kicked the rock and the father said "you just died son, now get in the car...nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah..."

i need to be out there i guess not really having anythig to do but a limited time in which it should be done in.

(pardon my run on sentence*)

*(and this fragment)**

**(and this one)

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