Confession This one is up here as much for the photograph as it is the mix. There’s very little in the world more sad and lonely than an abandoned playground. There are always echoes There are always ghosts, at least hundreds of abandoned or lost dreams and futures. It’s where such creatures live. Their voices sound like this.
Why I am like this? Why does every day begin in darkness? Why does every morning require an exorcism? Almost every morning anyway. It’s always been this way too. This is nothing at all new. This is all just so I can leave the house. It’s therapy.
There are upsides. At least I know now what’s needed to get it done and go tend to the world. That’s something.