Heavy Plant

Walk past a "Heavy Plant" warning and wonder vaguely if the trees thought it was for them; if whoever put it up had enough imag...



in: North Curl Curl NSW, Australia
I used to have so much time and I used it so poorly. Now I have so little that I have to find ways of maximising the little I have available. Writing seems a distant and nostalgic dream, forgotten for a very pleasant but very busy present. I need someone to make me some time.

Note: I am not full of scotch. It's beer.

1 comment:

  1. Writing is, as you (almost) say, rather like driving an elderly MkII Jaguar with a busted headlight: it weaves all over the place, never goes fast enough, you can never see where you're going, and it never gets you exactly where you want to be. Best to concentrate on living instead. X