:: Angel's Aerie ::
The rustle of night-dark wings..| [::..archive..::] |
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| [::..recommended..::] |
| :: lifeloop [>] |
| :: gothpunk [>] |
| :: unsound method [>] |
| :: bondage [>] |
| :: morbid outlook [>] |
| :: evil [>] |
| :: sluggy [>] |
:: Monday, December 30, 2002 ::
As the last seconds, minutes, hours of the year tick by the prospect of a fresh start before me does little to warm my heart. Except for the changing of a number, things will be as they always are. Stale. Stagnant. Same daily grind, same conflicts. So why the fuck should I be happy when everyone, everything is in the same friggin' rut as always? Let those misguided souls in the rose-colored glasses see only the bright and sunny. I prefer to see, hear, feel, touch, taste, smell, EXPERIENCE both the light and dark and draw what strength and comfort I may from it all.
:: Angel 9:05 AM [+] ::
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