dear a sense of place is important diary,
growing up i always knew i wouldn't be an astronaut, but i never did mind hanging up in the clouds. i kept my head up there most of the time. i love good times, but sometimes it rains. we need rain. the wetness keeps a balance between the dry and the death of things. tears no longer save shit. i no longer save tears. i shed them and make more. i cry when i want to and lie when i have to- which is hardly ever these days. i went by the pond today and it still has water in it, so that was a good thing to see. i wondered how much water is left from when i was a kid. prolly more than i'd think, but less than i could prolly imagine. i'd never caught myself thinking of such a thing before, the shelf life of water in a pond, but now i am sure there is one. time is married to the past and i think they love each other and i am sure glad. it would fucking be terrible for certain if they didn't.
