Deep Things.
Are going right here.
The rhododendrons are blooming.
It really describes my mood.
Blooming.
But knowing.
Knowing my inevitable fate is to die.
Die.
Die like the rhododendrons.
We cannot fight the inevitable.
It is destiny.
We cannot fight destiny.
For it is inevitable.
My summer is racing by.
Racing by.
Racing by like a race car.
A race car.
A fast race car moving effortlessly.
Effortlessly through the cool summer breeze.
That is my mood.
Could it be that I am happy?
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A random collection of personal essays and stories.
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