I think that I will start telling people that I am half French. Just not sure which half, though I would say it is the half that feels that this is How It Should Be:
Not faceless highstreets, not microwave food, not shrink wrapped, not uptight about health and safety but unconcerned over quality or substance.
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Weeks and months turn into years and who knows what surprises a new day will bring? As shelves fill with more songs, dust collects, memories accumulate and we pass through the lives of others, sometimes pausing, sometimes pulling up a chair, sometimes moving on. Thinking that tomorrow is going to be like yesterday. What do we know? I just like words and pictures, so why make excuses for collecting those either? But some things will never change, the sad songs will always be the best ones.
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