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, September 26, 2009
bis vincit qui se vincit in victoria
He conquers twice who conquers himself in victory
im the guy
right now
writing about things to write
my soul is the Earth’s sun 8 million years from now
and my heart is chum, constantly thrown into oceans
jotting down ideas
and always writing about writing
and my writing
always takes a lot of rewriting
i’m so tired
and so ready
to cultivate the paddy fields of your mind
mine your ore
and excavate your precious resources
i am big business
when not writing about not writing
you’ll never see my greatest moments
and if you do?
then I’ll see it first
because,
im the guy
right now
writing
trying
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Writing about writing and writing about not writing is more honorable than not writing about writing and not writing about not writing.
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