did_you_do_all_you_could fyn gula he walks, his head heavy with thought, as the red and yellow tulips swaying heavy in the late april wind. he's left robin hill for the length of the day to visit his ukranian father, once virile, now rendered lifeless by a sudden stroke that has, without mercy, left his right foot numb. it is as if a great black bird has landed on the rooftop of this quaint abode, its expansive wings slowly flapping, casting a dark shadow of oppression upon all who dwell inside. mother. wife. nurse. the blessed trinity. when he enters, he senses the absence of light like one going blind and finds his father in his chair, the prison cell of his own making. their history is rich. a father and son more like brothers, and brothers more like friends. they both feel the loss, the crack in their souls, but if anythig leaks out, it is time like blood from a wound, never love. it is love that circulates. he watches him sit there and knows his mind is drifting over his life like the black bird alighting from the roof and hopping back and forth, here and there upon a tree with many branches. happiness in the memory. contentment in the recollection of dreams. 010427 ... unhinged tell me the world is better for all our effort 010427 ... soia no, and that's why I'm still trying 010607 ... inferiority_complex what do you think? but at least now i know better poor consolation 010607 ... dB As we try, we change ourselves, and very little around us. I don't know if this means it's worth it. Usually people ask me for answers they know I have not got, but they expect me to bluff it and make them feel better somehow. Is it worth it? I'm trying, so tell me all is not lost. *Much Peace* 010609 ... Aimee no. I didn't. I'm sorry. 010610 ... raze i thought i did. i was wrong. i held something in reserve. now it's sunk to a place so deep, i'm not sure i can reach it. 130526 what's it to you? who go blather from