A pause for clarity, since the emails are still rolling in. You people seem to demand literal postings. Every song lyric, person and moment I mention seems to be matched and compared and speculated upon. It's weird. Find a new hobby, please. Thank you.
Caleb Followill is not Caleb. Jesus. Come on. The age difference must be twenty years. (but doesn't he resemble a young David Gilmour? Wow.) I've stopped entertaining the Ben-guesses completely because the point of this journal is BRIDGET, pure and simple (or contaminated and complicated, as expected).
And this post is in direct reference to this non-event. My theory extends to the visitor being a great grandchild to my most beloved of all poets.
See, I read the news.
Every once in a blue moon.
