sorry_life squint revolving doors, spun frozen like light in a photograph around you. You are at the pinnacle of wasted time wading in your own circular movement, sorry that you I can't choose an exit point, going anywhere but around. Sorry life. 041121 ... dries&hardens I whittle you down every night but I'll stop if you tell me when. 060707 what's it to you? who go blather from