Three times that day she had called its name,
THREE TIMES
Yes, yes she knew that now she would have to live alone.
A biography?
I don't think so.
Wandering and wavering, our roots lie within this ground, they wait patiently for us to
unite our earthly legs with them again, and once again become one with the earth in our death and decay.
A marvellous fortune,
i couldn't have planned it better myself.
roots, roots, oh where are my roots.
roots, roots, i long for my roots.
She always found it crazy, impossible, the way objects always seem to hide themselves,
the way objects pretend to sit still?
Bit you know that you don't and then you find them again and go 'aaah' but
secretly you KNOW that its not where you left it.
Also its consistency never let up, she could practically never put something down and find it again.
Scissors, pencils, sharpeners, pins......you heard me.