Thoughts on a ferry – October 13, 2011


It’s not me writing. I look back to old words written on wrinkled scraps of paper and they are the words of a stranger—that other me that hides, not because it’s a coward, but because it’s smart.

This world is cruel to the other me and if it exposed itself, might be obliterated.

Survival is key.

El amor no existe sin la tragedia.

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One thought on “Thoughts on a ferry – October 13, 2011

  1. I love the way you weave words into images; you don’t write, you know. You transpose images directly into the mind of your reader-I absolutely adore it;)

    Like

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