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, June 04, 2004
I'm Sorry...
But the best way for one to wake up is to a spelling bee on ESPN. To see a small, Asian kid get a word, ask for it again, and then faint dead on the floor. The audience gasped, commentators talked about how they had never seen anything like that before, nobody moved, the kid got back up, spelled the word right and sat back down. All of the other kids looked at him. Not in amazement or concern - but FEAR. I hadn't even pulled on my socks yet. Little kids in spelling bees is the best fucking way to wake up in the morning.
Everything after that is icing on the cake.
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