Except Perhaps Blood Looking out on another dull summer day, there is a sense of diminishing. The world seems lesser again, not merely smaller, but less interesting. Grey clouds, shapeless, like a dirty wash, fill a s… Read on blog or Reader Writing Me Up Read on blog or Reader Nothing Fills My Heart rak June 8 Except Perhaps Blood Looking out on another dull summer day, there is a sense of diminishing. The world seems lesser again, not merely smaller, but less interesting. Grey clouds, shapeless, like a dirty wash, fill a sunless sky. Petty sounds, traffic, a lawnmower, voices, and that eternal tinnitus, fill my ears. Nothing fills my heart. […] Continue reading Comment You can also reply to this email to leave a comment.

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