rock on mr. jenkins
i was reading through an old journal of mine when i ran across a few loose pages tucked within the journal entries. most of the pages are unremarkable and very unblog worthy. however there is a line that follows a bit of poetic rambling that has me scratching my head. the bit that precedes the puzzling line is as follows:
Boxes are emptied. Memories are strewn. I search my mind. Through the cluter I hear a voice. I come to you. I am your strength. I am your endurance. I hear you. I see you. Silence.
Then for no apparent reason the line that has me baffled as to what the hell I was talking about...Mr. Jenkins will be part of history
. I don't know Mr. Jenkins but i'm sure he's a fine man. why shouldn't he be a part of history?