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.
Monday, May 17, 2004
Melatonin...
Lost a paper that had about five story ideas and a list of things to do.
So now I'm here, just kind of twiddling my thumbs on this keyboard. I gathered up all of my movies to return to the video store. I have Netflix but still go to the video store occasionally, because, you know - it's just so hard to mail those Netflix envelopes back, y' know? I also have my bow propped by the door. I'm going to take it to that archery store place thingy to get it strung. Then I can start shooting arrows at people and chirping birds. I also took off the back of the huge tv that we have. We broke the connector thing off of the back. When I popped of the back panel, I made something else come loose too. It's brains and nervous system were all too complicated and web-like - so, I guess I have to find somebody to help me lug that thing to a TV repair shop. Then I will go back home and work on my screenplay about demon conjuring, binding spells, Hell and The Necronomicon...
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