You Couldn't Not Like Someone Who Liked

That's The Day's Business. Thinking. Thinking And Isolation, Because It Doesn't Matter If You Pass The Time Of Day With Someone Or Not; In The End, You're Alone. He Seemed To Have Put In As Many Miles In His Brain As He Had With His Feet. The Thoughts Kept Coming And There Was No Way To Deny Them.

Stories Are Relics, Part Of An Undiscovered Pre-existing World.

The Sun Was A Molten Coin Burning A Circle In The Low-hanging Overcast, Surrounded By A Fairy-ring Of Moisture.

You Couldn't Not Like Someone Who Liked The Guitar.

Each Life Makes Its Own Immitation Of Immortality.