harold.lloyd:
Can't see the red for the maple
harold.lloyd:
they did not brake for bokeh
harold.lloyd:
let the right one in
harold.lloyd:
Hey hey hey hey help is on its way
harold.lloyd:
subtle innuendos follow
harold.lloyd:
biathlon gold medallist
harold.lloyd:
the connection here is so glacial that I've been staring at this thing while it ups for long enough to give me a headache and make me sick of that blue there in the back
harold.lloyd:
I was the one who brought them here. I was the one that said "keep going south." I was the one who said that we were not lost. It was my fault, because it was my project. I am so scared! I don't know what's out there. We are going to die out here!
harold.lloyd:
bobsleigh
harold.lloyd:
not arty
harold.lloyd:
harold.lloyd needs to get out and take some photomographs
harold.lloyd:
here are some berries I made for skynet to make it feel better for starting world war iii
harold.lloyd:
in spite of the warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, how it yells in my ear
harold.lloyd:
So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent
harold.lloyd:
Stay with the rude multitude till I return.
harold.lloyd:
For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told.
harold.lloyd:
Yellow tides, golden eyes... red and white, red and wise
harold.lloyd:
thou see'st the glowing of such fire
harold.lloyd:
primary colours
harold.lloyd:
come on and twist a little closer now
harold.lloyd:
the roughest berry on the rudest hedge
harold.lloyd:
amidst all the little flowers of the mall who'll want and get and always shall
harold.lloyd:
here begins the berries
harold.lloyd:
to sigh / to the winds whose pity, sighing back again / did us but loving wrong.
harold.lloyd:
And yet. And yet. This new road will one day be the old road too.
harold.lloyd:
Take in your love, and then let me alone.
harold.lloyd:
Every leaf speaks bliss to me / Fluttering from the autumn tree
harold.lloyd:
Someone said I should call this 'red slurpalicious sorbet'. So I did.
harold.lloyd:
my woes end likewise with the evening sun
