Monday, April 16, 2018
David Bowie , Wild Is The Wind
stolen..as i listen with longing and pain and grief..
so where is it, not wild, not tame, but freely kissing me alive ?
where am I ?
wind inside? after death? here.. it is here...always here..i listen..i know.
me not setting anybody free...
just letting go..
a moment this night
who’d be astonished when an arshole dies who finds it difficult to bear himself?
i wouldn’t.
i have not done so much bad in life nor have i had all in all a bad life.
i posted pre-views on my next travel plans but feel no such immense need to travel alone nor so much joy.
nor do i feel i must stay alive forever.
all is good as it comes.
i am old enough to go.
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