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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 5:03 pm
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I say... it bites... Yes, that is what it does: it bites. When it rubs up against you in the cold of a winter night, when the stars shine against the white beneath your heels and you quiver helpless to do anything but, it bites you.
I despise it's fangs. I despise that it reminds me of lonliness, I despise that it ruins my solitude. "Interuptions are not permissible" I often find myself moaning. But to no avail, it seems. It still nips at my toes, causing them to retract inward tightly. Bitting is what it does.
When deadlocked eyes meet, and apprehension winds the air tight ripping breath from one's lungs casuing agony on so many levels that it makes even those around them uncomfortable It bites you, compounding your pain.
and yet I do sometimes miss it when it is not there. When the world deafens me with screams , from the sky and the earth and the sea and even those living amongst myself, I feel a pang at the pit of my stomach and a urn to be alone in solace and peace.
It is during these times when I p
o
n
der
w h e t h e r the bi t e o f s i l e n
c e
i- s a- c
tua l
l y
a
ki-
s-
(s h
h
h
h
h)
s.
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Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2007 5:11 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 16, 2007 2:12 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 4:37 pm
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