Sometimes my chest feels like an old, bedraggled tomcat crawled in and filled its entirety with paws and half a tail and one scarred eye. And sometimes all I can hope is that a wild pack of dogs will come careening around the next corner and chase him off for a while.
Leaving room for the next critter to climb in.
I would like to be involved in some sort of grass roots movement.
fellow travelers.
- B.E.B.
- JEH
- L. Borden
- Pr. Don
- Rebecca
- a softer world
- amateur cartography
- andrea
- any thing, really.
- barrett buys brownies by boston
- build a nest
- circle venture
- green tea w/honey
- h.m.b.
- hasten the day
- he bikes to work occasionally
- hopefulness
- kim
- lamb
- lily
- m.doodles
- mouse
- ms. cari base
- music!
- nelly
- next door neighbour
- nomnom
- o.w.f.
- peace in the chaos
- porch front factory
- postsecret
- psalters.
- rice milk
- ruminate
- star pine
- street art
- syllipsi
- the ashram
- the game that announced we were not to be messed with.
- words.
- συζητεω
1 comment:
i think that's the carrillo hill talkin. champ.
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