I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
Before I Go To Bed...
I must do your mom. No. I must remind myself to write my next post on what books I have that I can't finish...YOU SHOULD TOO, IN THE COMMENTS. Whether It's some that you've tried repeatedly or one that was just plain fucking dissapointing after you got all worked up about it...
Actually...kind of like your mom.
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