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Marts 25., 2015
 | 08:04
I'd thought I'd buried Mother. No. Some of us cremate parents, not bury them, cremate them in our own fires, then sift and sieve the bits of bone to fine particles, down to dust. As we discard the dust, some of it settles on our arms, faces.
/Roberta Payne. Speaking To My Madness
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 | 10:45
No rīta, vārdsakot, dungoju Rob Dougan (es vispār pēdējā laikā mostos ar Rob Dougan galvā).
Es: - She thinks that I was born yesterday...
T.: - Suddenly...
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