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, September 30, 2004
Microsoft Word(s)...
What its like to go outside for a smoke and to be reading player piano and think what a genius vonnegut is and then to see your initials written in a line and then to go inside and pee and grab the calender section of the la times and look at the movie reviews on the ad of garden state and to see the first review written by a guy who shares your first two names and then to go inside and want to write on the computer and you say to yourself that this was pretty cool and that it meant something then to turn up the volume on all of the songs that have been playing on your old computer with the volume down and it was one of your favorite songs by marilyn mansom but it took a long time and now you’ll have to tackle all of those divine intervention and moments of clarity moments later because youre getting tired drunk and thirty.
I meant…thirsty.
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