The Blood In My Veins Is Frozen

The Trouble With Forgiveness Is That Some People Don't Want To Be Forgiven.

Every Day The Eye Is Subject To A Thousand Tiny Shocks As A Thousand Industries Compete For The Eye-kick, The Visual Hook That Will Lock The Consumer Into Product For That Crucial Second Where The Tiny - Or Not So Tiny - Leap Of The Imagination Is Made.

What I Mean Is This: You Meet Someone, You Think About Them. You're Already Changing Because Of The Way You Think About Them. You Meet Them Again, You Think About Them Some More, You're Changing Again. And On It Goes. You Are Changing Right Now. Before My Eyes.

Because Two People In Love Don't Make A Hive Mind. Neither Should They Want To Be A Hive Mind, To Think The Same, To Know The Same. It's About Being Separate And Still Loving Each Other, Being Distinct From Each Other. One Is The Violin String One Is The Bow.

The Bluebells Made Such A Pool That The Earth Had Become Like Water, And All The Trees And Bushes Seemed To Have Grown Out Of The Water. And The Sky Above Seemed To Have Fallen Down On To The Earth Floor; And I Didn’t Know If The Sky Was The Earth Or The Earth Was Water. I Had Been Turned Upside Down. I Had To Hold The Rock With My Fingernails To Stop Me Falling Into The Sky Of The Earth Or The Water Of The Sky. But I Couldn’t Hold On.