Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Imagine, if you will, the scores of people going about their lives everyday – the mindless routines, odd little habits, humdrum goings-on – oblivious to a great many things, one of which is this:


Your existence.

Every single trace, erased. The once known, now unknown.

How does it feel to grow old without you?

How does it feel to be young without me?

I like to think that I have covered my tracks well.

Details of this entry.Tuesday, November 06, 2007, filed under Musings.
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