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, August 08, 2008
Not really... I'm just tired And Full Of Poo...
"I want to live a real life... I don't want to dream any longer."
Now. Now. Now.
Everything that you always imagined
Everything that you've always dreamed
Every night and daymare
every mistake
every beautiful moment
everything you've ingested
needs to come out, kid
wake up wake up wake up
no more dreams
Now. Now. Now.
Abre Los ojos, Puto...
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