I wonder to myself: what is the weight of my watchmanship?
I spread my tarot deck across an expanse of sky, and invoke the stars for an answer. The reading comes back a muddled mess. A hurled echo of strained silences and skewed Zodiac signs.
I give up and assign my appraisal at greater than zero; I simultaneously question my own assessment.
It must be worth something. Surely my absorption has value. The neutrality of a zero isn't repaid with passionate actions.
Silence is a tool of extortion and blunt trauma, not a weapon of negotiation and goodwill communication.
11:08 p.m. - 2015-03-10
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea