Into It Over It Batsto
Remembering the year that you were gone: A series of decisions -- unhealthy living. Writing novels in monitored time. Cold pavement under static sky -- gaining patience, but losing sight -- we wrote off our problems as better times. But hey, you couldn't sell the stories anyway. In a battle with New England of who knows you best, a mediocre vote of confidence. That poor boy won't know what hit him, if and when you tell commitment to take a hike. It's the same old story, so help me if I try to make an honest effort this time. But hey, we couldn't tell the stories anyway.
