I’m not really here right now. I can only be here when no-one’s a… and I know no-one can see me. Even when i speak to you, I’m sort of not really here.

My garments have been stripped awa… along with any hope of tender merc… These feet made bare and sorely bl… It’s time again to bear your earth… Still it seems you know not what y…

What lingers within me is ancient… prepared for the worst of all poss… No matter how deeply I rest while… it’s forever awake, coiled and rea… It seems to be from before there w…

I read such woeful words penned by a fallen brother; his message cut me deeply. He prayed to all that’s holy that he might cry again.

I was surrounded by many desperate, troubled people. There was much drinking, drugging, and violence. Women were being bought and sold,

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;

These words are crude utensils, with which to touch you, and be touched;

Something whispers, certainly not nothing. A subtle impetus to choose to stir and rise

I stole myself away from thee and me, for love of sweet Mary Jane.

Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.

Time wears away at me, like water on a stone, oh, so slowly, but inevitably, drop by drop,