mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ghost I walk through the hallways like a ghost, like I am searching for something I lost lives ago. I cannot grasp the idea that these lights are real, these fluorescent lights that hum like bumblebees. The ceiling is made of plaster, wood, wires. The soles of these shoes are made from liquid tapped from an exotic tree. This clothing is made from plant fibers twisted into threads and sewn with a needle made from rocks buried deep underground. What? I have a job to do. I have a business to run. I have people to watch and typing to do, and all I can think? What am I waiting for? What will I find when I turn the right corner at the right time? I continue my ghost-walk, and I am not afraid. SIlent and searching. When will I find you? 2:10 p.m. - 2005-10-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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