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Tuesday June 27, 06
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10:00 AM - Purpose Of Evasion
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Summers are certainly not what they used to be. Truly, in the blink of an eye July afternoons cooling on a “Slip n’ Slide” made way for August evenings on patios stagnating in redundant rave beats. Gucci, Ecstasy and self-imposed misery buried beauty once so very easily found in blue skies and butterflies. Indeed, as the years pulsed on something, somewhere went horribly wrong.
Oh t’is true that beyond doubt we become bitter old leather-skinners far before nature plans. We cloak ourselves in unnecessary chaos by looping into a ceaseless circle run catering to the disgustingly abstract. We do this to ourselves on a daily basis and we do it all without rhyme or reason. Oh and honestly, it's rather pathetic and it’s only when viewing children smiling whilst sipping lemonade that we, as adults, can see - rather harshly - just how terribly detached from our inherent spirituality we truly are. This realization… well it pummels the soul as it taxes the heart. It leaves me looking into the mirror wondering where the years went, and, if I’ll ever again be capable of cushioning the inner poltergeist in simple, healthy pleasures. Sandcastles and candy floss… how I dearly miss being able to enjoy the untainted.
Summers... they used to last forever and I swear, lately they come and leave so very quickly. They never last but equally, they never go away for very long either. There’s no great, romantic lead up to the season anymore and as we get crunched for time we simply say that we’ve next summer to get what we didn’t get this summer. We take the season – and indeed our lives – for granted with age, which is simply criminal.
On a seperate note~
I can hardly wait until England takes out Portugal. Not so much because I want England to win but because Portugal should NOT have won against the Netherlands. Furthermore, absolutely no group of fans holler over wins as loudly and obnoxiously as those horn honking, flag waving, Grand Banks fish filchers. So right, when the English win I'll take an English flag in one hand, a baseball bat in the other and simply walk my way into areas where Portugal is popular just praying someone steps.
Well, alright... either that or I'll drive by said areas really, really quickly shouting "You suck!", or something like that. We'll see. My alcohol intake that day will be a deciding factor.
Germany will win the World Cup,
Sullen
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& therefore not truly never ever really innocent, unless you mean when you were but a babe in someone's arms
also, i apologize for veering toward a semantic 'discussion'
however, i too long for a like thing;
the naivete to think I am innocent
ps: Is soccer ever over?