What makes this even worst is that he did spent almost 8 weeks dry by this spring. Of course it is stupid to dream, but when there comes dry week after another you begin to hope, even you know that it ain't gonna last.
I am quite sure that there gonna be funerals before autumn (I wish that I am wrong), and this waiting is pure pain, anger, sorrow and everything like that, endlessly (just like it has been for many years already).
Everyone dies sooner or later, that is part of nature.
Still this downhill feels bad.
I wish that sky would clear for the night, and wind would go to sleep, so I could get to the swamp to see the nature at is best, to see that life goes on anyway, feel that sorrow but also that beautiness. I sure shouldn't (we are out of money and out of fuel), but I NEED that (and at this point I see clearly my fathers way).
I would like to be strong (but I am not).








they're awesome!!!!
keep it up
--
"When the Rich Wage War It's the Poor that Die"
- Hands Held High, Linkin Park
[link]
Bad luck to poor (every trip is away from something else).
bad luck with that
--
"When the Rich Wage War It's the Poor that Die"
- Hands Held High, Linkin Park
[link]
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