We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
and
i'm having trouble finishing things lately: emails, blog posts, blog comments, conversations, letters, etc. etc. etc.
this won't be finished but i'm just going to hit 'publish post' anyway
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