Friday, December 24, 2004


...late at night in the warm dark of my room i slowly twist my neck to hear the far off cries of the gantry cranes on thier nightly migrations from left to right. the wooping sound they make sounds like dinosaurs backing out of a tight parking spot at the mall. these are the sounds that wash over me at night when i am alone with my thoughts and dreams. the slow rustling of the wind stirring the leaves in the alley along with the low hum of the computer that brings me back from the harbour and anchors me to my bed.

... sometimes i can imagine flying over the fingers of water outside my window, lined with metal toy chests and a million busy bees of international commerce. its kinda funny, i never fly in my dreams.