Blistered but never broken by the rays in the back o' beyond, lost in the k-hole, the endless, endless wandering, waiting, waiting for the sun...waiting...
Waiting for you to come along.
Year 15. Nous sommes epic. Nous sommes omipotent. Nous sommes legion.
I am Sandfly. This is what you did not see. This is reality. This is beauty, and this is honest joi de vivre.
The ride has started once again, the vicarious, delicious, roaming in the Sandfly gloaming. Welcome to the ideology of the idiosyncratic. Welcome to the skylark. Get the fuck on board...
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