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.
how strange that my imaginary friend is speaking to me in real life, and not in my imagination. its like i'm Bastian and you are Atreyu. but i'm glad, and i will definitely continue reading. thanks kevynn
how strange that my imaginary friend is speaking to me in real life, and not in my imagination. its like i'm Bastian and you are Atreyu. but i'm glad, and i will definitely continue reading. thanks kevynn
ReplyDelete