You can see the sadness in people's eyes, they feel sorry, or they are fidgeting in their seats, they made an attempt to figure something out, but then the truth ate them up, they listened a few times but then got pushed onto their backs

The children in their Jewish curls and dresses, and their mothers reciting prayers, they will know a world that is always...always... inside


Sadness in the eyes, and eagerness in the children, happy for snacks. To write. Do I have a responsibility to them?  What does that even mean?

Stopping myself from thinking what I'm thinking, Jesus believe me, I would have it any other way

What does it mean to surrender? To have more clarity?  To let go?  To see music, and to rekindle eagerness and curiousity, what else is worth living for?  Only questions, no poetry

On the one hand, this, on the other, that
Too much

How are we going to do it?

Exploit our experiences, take bits and peices