scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


26.1.05
Stonehenge.
twice a year, once of which was this morning and the other of which is sometime in December, my house becomes an astronomical measuring device. Everything lines up perfectly. The rooms are suffused with a warm glow. The sun's light, in a narrow beam, hits the flour cannister on the far side of the kitchen. Indiana Jones shows up with a ruby and a big stick. You get my drift.

The sun lines up with the peep hole in the front door. At dawn. Yeah. It's fucking blinding.

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scrawled @ 16:06






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