Wednesday, December 21, 2011

On the train from Jackson to Chicago,
Licking all the wounds that never healed.

Turn around. Turn around.
Now you’re at the end of the line.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
You’re standing on the shoulders,
Standing on the shoulders of giants.

You know those days where you feel incredibly beat up at the end? Like nothing will ever go the way you want it to? And thinking makes your head hurt? That's my day. I just keep listening to this song over and over. Is this dramatic? Maybe. But I'm a lady and I can cry if I want to.

Providence has yet to be revealed.

1 comment:

Spudart said...

Chicago! :)