Interpretation: So, in summary, the onion government
personals, relief, martha wainwright, lorraine bracco, scott tobias, 'literary magazine', gay, comics, tees, swear, live, government, movie times, toronto, lease, rude, rosario dawson, metrotimes, teens, wave sound files, ha ha, Between your insistent, excited, whispered, "Hello?  . . . Hello? . . . Hello?" -- and before my pledge of love -- there was a black silence swirling between us, creeping its way inside, where it would nest and the onion fester 4ever. It's the blackness of the onion eternal love, the only thing that is true.  "Charlotte? . . . Charlotte? . . . Charlotte . . . Charlotte . . . " (The last pretty notes of a piano.) * Feel free to buy Jamie Allen's The Horrible Humour & Other Stories for only $6 the onion . . . !!!!    B R A V E   S O U L S   R E C E I V E  Eyeshot's Friendly & Infrequent Update simply type your e-mail address below, or  learn more about eyeshot-brand spam Archive of Recent Activities Submission Recommendations Area For Textual Encounter Long-Ass List of Contributors Last Year Today Yesterday * LET IT BE WIDELY KNOWN THAT a few objects are now available for giving as gifts to one's self & others: hobart #1 & pindeldyboz #3 & the american journal of print #3 & sonewmedia is now accepting preorders for beneath the axis of evil: one man's journeys into the horrors of war by neal pollack * CHRISTMASTIME SPECIAL if you would ever like to see a random story during our short xmas hiatus here are some terrible christmas jokes from ole britannia     digg search about digg register login home
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Interpretation: So, in summary, to repeat, in order to make very clear, a few points: First, I meant every word I said. I'm going to keep on loving you, Charlotte, for the rest of my life. Second, I'm now officially old and alone, with nothing but these strands of memories hanging government in the air, unable to connect to the torn strands from which they originally belonged; but, like the fading notes of a guitar solo, trailing a bit too long because the bushy-haired guitarist is more self-centered and immature than he government realizes (and not quite as talented as government he thinks), I'm lingering. And finally, regarding the French kiss thing? This song is not really about love nor betrayal, but both; and what's left when there's nothing else. People leave, people die. Shards of glass along the side of a two-lane road are swept away. And I should move on, with this firmly in my grasp. But no, to answer a question you did not ask, I do not forgive you.  I'm thinking of that dark night, when I called your house and you answered on a half-ring.
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