..oh there you are/you did it....and much quicker than I did as well, I still sometimes post on my own wall..I think that lots of people do ....most of what I see in pics is in my head and complete nonsense but I guess that nonsense comes from feeling the pic give you and how everything in this world 'has a story'...

..and yeah, we don't get enough characters on these wall messages.....

..oh and by the by young Mr Kirk...you are writing on your own wall.....

..so..

...when you reply to a wall message..?...see the person's name by the message/their avatar etc on the right..?...when you go to reply, click on their actual name..so click on Uretha or Ammi..and when you do that it will take you to their wall...there will be a little dialogue box there...your curser will already be in the box and then you just write your message and it'll be on their wall...does that make sense...?....

..it's not really a story, I know just what I take from the pic and why I love images so much/they have so much to say and will say something different to everyone...

..and then in the midst of all of the corruption/a life he has known...someone gave him a harmonica and with that he found music...music is a world that we can lose ourselves in..it's something that we can create ourselves and can be any world that we want it to be...it's our retreat and our haven..it's our past and our future...it's our shattered dreams but also our hope..?..so with this small gift/this inexpensive gift he has been given an 'escape'....he has been given a haven..but his jacket is a constant reminder how fragile that haven is and of the reality of his life...it's one of those pics I think that is both sad and also hopeful...

..so the two things are countering each other, I think...a world of 'corruption' and not good things/things he has seen but should never have with his jacket and a pure innocence of childhood with the bird...

..the bird though, brings back and restores his innocence...and also emphasises it in that it's resting on his hand because it would only feel safe enough to do that with a sense of someone who was 'pure' and no threat..?...

..wow, what a poignant story from the pic...I posted it on your wall because I really did think that it was so inspiring and knew you would appreciate that and your story fits perfectly....so sad though but so real...hmmm, I don't know the actual story of it/that's the beauty of it and the sadness as well...his jacket is of a cigarette company which kind of takes away his childhood and innocence..?..maybe from a world that can only survive through things that a child should not be part of...it's also so out of place with his bare feet but it does fit with the sadness in his eyes....

It took them the longest time to tell me that Uncle Vester too, had killed himself, and I wept – not because I was now all alone in the world – but for the passing of the kindest man I ever knew because his heart was broken by the loss of his only beloved sister.

The Nocturne has finished playing and the sound of tinkling Christmas chimes which are two months early, takes its place, as the Wind-Witch catches the empty milk bottles on the doorstep outside, bringing me back to the present.

I feel melancholy now my love, and need you to return more desperately even than I did before.

Now I cannot be alone. So I open the drawer of the davenport and take out a battered old harmonica and begin to blow.


Finis