Change

He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Comin' home to a place he'd never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door

You might not hear from me quite as much this week. A lot of stuff has to be sorted out and I feel a bit of the need to retreat into myself in order to do it.

It's time though...

It's hard to break certain patterns when blogging about them is part of the pleasure. But I'm still here. And I'm sure I won't be able to resist posting at least a little bit.

love,
h