Confusion, yeah, but the ranting kind; sort of spinning out. Mississippi Kite doesn't stop to brood over question marks, it blathers and chatters and lists and spits and paces - won't shut up - but ends up saying only that something's missing. Gliding over a gaping hole, squawking. It's probably true that pretend TVs and LA gloss'll burn you cold. I've had worse, but...cold as a demeanor, no matter what the cause, is limiting. It stops you in your tracks and then you have to live there, safe and sleepy. Not dead, just deadened. Humming along like a zombie. Singeing your nuts in icy water is better, 'cause that wakes you up. Sure, it's dangerous here, but not caring keeps you from taking care of each other. You gotta dole out the snow and lemon drops; that's why you're here. On fire, underwater, wherever you are, your people are waiting for you to care. Their investment floats you back up to the surface. Where, of course, you can't help but paddle around a little...

В наличии:
	OZON.ru - 99 руб.	Перейти

Рейтинг книги: 5 из 5, 2 голос(-ов).