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, January 31, 2005
Sharon Carter And Red Skull Return...
Everybody asks me to go out after I'm done at the bar and I usually shrug them off and politely decline. Then I get home and want to go. But then I would never go back out once I'm comfortable. And then tomorrow, when I call everybody - they'll all be working. And I'll do nothing. The end.
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