I've kept this journal since October 2001. Talk about progression.
"Someone’s late. I’ll wait. In time, time will show. Someone’s cashed in. Chances are where chips fall. Someone’s sunset is someone's moonrise. Someone’s red lips speak to someone's blue eyes. And some may run. And some know fear. And some wade in a while and let the murky waters clear. And some just smile. Someone should go. He’s waiting on a kind hand. Someone should say, "he's waiting in quicksand". Someone’s less proud; a crowd surrounds a chalk line. Someone’s too loud. Sermons save their blood wine. And some may hope. And some may pray. And some talk trash. Let the talkers have their day. And some fuck scared, and some suck sad. And some see their station staying still and going mad. And some just smile. Someone makes love. Love makes someone. Someone gives love. Someone takes none. And some may pass. And some may hold. And some grow ageless while their body's growing old. And they just smile. They just smile. They just smile. They just smile."
"I watch the ripples change their size But never leave the stream Of warm impermanence So the days float through my eyes But still the days seem the same And these children that you spit on As they try to change their worlds Are immune to your consultations They're quite aware of what they're going through Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Turn and face the strange..." ~David Bowie