"Tomorrow on the Runway" is the loveliest thing I've heard in a *very* long time. Transported to some inner terrain more accurate than my immediate surroundings...
Sometimes I wonder. When we resonate to this unknown familiarity with the better part of ourselves, is this the true nature of things? Or are they merely reflections of the way we wish we were?
I get this same feeling when reading T.S. Eliot or gazing at something by Paul Klee...
Ana Maria
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