The world always feel the loneliest at night. We are connected, but only through a cold hard glass.
Whom then, can I seek the solace I desire, and stop the endless torment of the night?
Songs that I have not sung, words that I have not whispered. When then, can I be free to speak the words and sing the songs of my soul?
And whose ears shall be the willing recepient where these words rest?
The daily rigors of life, all reflected through the eyes of one person, etched in this tiny little place in the great World Wide Web
:: About Me
- Lambie
- Where's Puddy?
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