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.
in rooming houses.
A river always flowing.
I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
If I could - I'd sell slivers of it in the bottom of special tequila bottles.
To be so smart, and then to die - must be frustrating.
But then, maybe, only stupid people are the only ones frustrated by death.