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November 18, 2007
There is a white noise flowing. Remember the days of a brighter glowing. Those yesterdays pregnant with tomorrows, the ways the days fled no one took notice though running on time borrowed. Now the days float in and out, disconnected or too closely bound. Holding them sometimes for fear of them passing, sleeping through others for fear of your grasping. Grasping to people or words or a plan, strangling them unwittingly in invisible hands. Oh but who really cares you think, you’ve read too many books about the complexity and the links. You give in today convinced you are okay.