We know who you are and we know where you live.
I was thinking this evening, as I was walking to the station to catch the train home after a pretty long day at work, that my son is the most perfect thing not just in my life but in this world. He is perfect and pure and everything else is corrupted and damned. He is an angel come down from heaven.
I hadn't realised how corrputed, imperfect and 90% shit everything is until he came.
Pity The Garden is only a temporary home. The snake is out there, just waiting with his knowledge of corruption and, I guess, opportunity.
So this is how it feels to be a father.
Monday, January 31, 2005
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