Friday, July 9, 2010

I could only hope it was all imagined.

I cant Imagine what I Imagined,
Document this night, for it may never occur again. The East Coast fields can hear me approaching, my feet tapping the damp ground it felt like my own. Small droplets of water on blades of grass magnify our new perception of the world, nothing can be wrong, not now, not at this godly hour.

Never will i see into the past of it all, memories fade, they can not be trusted.

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