||[Oct. 1st, 2006|02:18 am]
|||||Zatoichi closing credits||]|
Forgetting about self definitions for a while.
Why do days seem to never end, while years flip by like the pages of a book in the wind?
Is the falling leaf angry at the wind?
I cannot believe so.
Postsexy is leaving behind attachments, desires, and any idea of maintaining sexiness.
Postsexy is the sound of the mime falling in the forest.
Postsexy is seen with the third eye, but remembered in the heart.