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.
Friday, May 30, 2003
Uggg...
Friggin' naps.
Always making me feel all Pilsbury.
Since when did I start taking naps, anyway?
It's all your fault, you shit balls...
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