Always the same dissonant clash when time wasted turns to time intended. What makes me think I can condense thoughts before I sift them and filter? What makes me think I have the right to order them before release?
Always the same murky mesh of muddled melodies and disjointed diction.
--kept my rhythm in perfect time
walked in purposeful stride
lost my footing down riverside
will you wait for me to stand
again?--
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
...and thus begins my intensive campaign to have "y'all" replaced with "b'ys" as the preferred term for southerners addressing groups of two or more people, animals, beer, etc.
Wish me luck.
" This is my beautiful new wife, Lila-Ann. The moment Momma brought her home from the hospital I knew we were destined to be wed. So here we are, thirteen years later, just as happy as kinfolk should be on their hitchin' day."
Wish me luck.
" This is my beautiful new wife, Lila-Ann. The moment Momma brought her home from the hospital I knew we were destined to be wed. So here we are, thirteen years later, just as happy as kinfolk should be on their hitchin' day."
Monday, February 02, 2004
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