..who's keeping count?
|
and the important question.. ..who's keeping count? |
|
| the thing about snowflakes is that they melt. it's all very well to be a speck of perfection for that infinitesmal moment. but it's kinda like cheating to be a puddle of dirty slush the rest of the time. |
| who's dirty slush? i am. and i fall horribly short of even brief perfection |
| so.. what justifies me looking down on snowflakes? foolishness, that's what. foolish foolish pride. and foolish a lot of things |