Hello again everyone.
Rough and terrible time last week, but from aqua into unda all deaths pass from the concrete to the imagined. The guilt of watching a friend's memory drift from that daily horror, the solid mass of grief that heralds your hours, into a manageable trivia, is omnipresent. So I bid my friend Ross farewell, shuffled off to the book cases of our memory, not often to be remembered, the brutal taxing of our days. The way it is, I guess, the way it will be.
Like I said though, moving on, got out on Sunday to the Great Ocean Road to see the Twelve Apostles, which are a bunch of wicked huge rocks all smashed up standing on the coast. Really cool, photos are below.
Will go on more about life tomorrow, when I feel a bit less guilty about living my life, in the face of the forfeited.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment