Monday, July 14, 2008
more than me
My empty mine runs fluidly, like a rug in the water. The things I have, the things I enjoy, are all empty and yet I value it all so very much. I look at those who have not what I have, and I see joy. The joy I see does not float like the rug; it does not heap piles and piles of shit on top to make it seem like everything is all spiffy like; the joy I see is real for those people and that is why they smile more than me.
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