a random blackberry jotting.....

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Back in the days of miracles and a long distance call, the feeling of thought that transcended my dreams would let you know I've been there by your side and my dreams held you forever. Everyday the thought of a tremor that runs under the waves of our life, sends the slumber of my sleep into a long and sweaty nightmare where I know the time of miracle has come to an end. No more long distance calls, no more hopes and the silence of all good things that have come to an end. And the message in a bottle I sent is lying on the ocean floor, coming to haunt me, when I'll dream no more. Now the dream is a hope and hope is life. I do not dream anymore and I'm alive no more. Walking rather running away is an amusing thought, but to run away from something there must be the essential existence of a holding in the present. There is nothing here, and there is no hope left of a green on the other side an abyss has no sunshine.


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