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.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Hey Kid...
One day you'll grow up.
One day you'll have an important moment of clarity that spirals through your brain and explodes outward through your heart.
The newly-found, diamond-like focus that suddenly envelops your eyes will cause them to well up with tears because what you've just learned is so, so beautiful...
You grew up...
You finally get it.
And now you're too old to do anything about, kid.
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i interviewed you once, a long time ago, for a college assignment.
ReplyDeletei thought this was really beautiful
Wait, we're not grown up are we??
ReplyDeleteCome back. fatfreemilk@gmail.com
ReplyDelete