No. No. Don't paint him; don't make him nothin' 'cept what he is. Don't try to paint him into a god!
My hands've gone all tight into little fists. I make 'em uncurl real slow, and breathe out. Don't think 'bout that. Don't think 'bout goin' into the other world, 'cause then I'll want to stay there.
"Um. Where you keepin' the picture? I mean, where are you these days? Do you have a job? How long've you been back?"
no subject
No. No. Don't paint him; don't make him nothin' 'cept what he is. Don't try to paint him into a god!
My hands've gone all tight into little fists. I make 'em uncurl real slow, and breathe out. Don't think 'bout that. Don't think 'bout goin' into the other world, 'cause then I'll want to stay there.
"Um. Where you keepin' the picture? I mean, where are you these days? Do you have a job? How long've you been back?"