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Saturday, August 30, 2008

As we spin across a milieu of stars and dust, crying in vain for someone who isn’t there, on a limping spaceship called Earth - who will save our non-existent souls?


When I wake up tomorrow I will make myself a cup of tea, sit outside my house. Sip, smell the wafting sweetness of the aroma and watch the world go by. A man will walk by and look at me in surprise - don’t you have something better to do than sit outside your house in your pajamas? I will invite him for a cup; slow down - and watch the sun cross the road to the other side.

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Dinesen @ 6:33 AM

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