January 2011
I never write anymore but i should start
Wandering across the bottom of the ocean, a feeling of weightlessness and isolation. So far down out of the light of the sun, i feel so at home
A modern world wrecked and decaying, Right in front of our faces. When will we stop? When will we realize? The population is walking hands tied blindfolded into the sun.
Why have so few turned with me and ran into the ocean down to the floor? I hope to...
