theres always been something abotu driftwood. Its a memory it has travelled silently, without havign to tell anyone of its journey without ever wanting or needing anything. Once grown on a tree then somehow fallen, and then somehow brought to sea, and then somehow on the shore and then somehow in my hands. I feel bad did I end its journey? Its a piece of my life now but it has a history of its own, its own life.

theres always been something abotu driftwood. Its a memory it has travelled silently, without havign to tell anyone of its journey without ever wanting or needing anything. Once grown on a tree then somehow fallen, and then somehow brought to sea, and then somehow on the shore and then somehow in my hands. I feel bad did I end its journey? Its a piece of my life now but it has a history of its own, its own life.