Perfection, maybe it's the ultimate tease.. a ruler with no boundaries.. it seems as though everyone is created perfectly imperfect.. when the warm fuzzy glasses are cold, scratched, distorted, and discarded.. how does one reconcile all the imperfection? Should one be apathetic, evasive, delusional, confrontational, or perhaps become a groundless ping pong ball? This is all assuming there are perfect cases of coexistense.. yet, if one reconciles all that is backwards and approaches it from the side.. eventually it may move forwards.. transforming the imperfect to perfect.... .... .... an unfinished thought, maybe someone else can finish it.

If u are reading this, if u are there, if u still feel like u are there.. keeping low.. afraid of being thrown back if u show too much.. waiting for the storm to end. I just want to let you know that I'm still sitting at the table waiting for the Queen to move, no matter where she goes. I miss everything. It's hard to reciprocate through tinted windows. Will my only guests be teasing tumble weeds? I am waiting with a thankyou card. Thankyou for waking me up. I'm getting old and filling into this old old old soul's shoes. We will have to play bridge one day. Laconically yours..