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, June 28, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day. F. Scott Fitzgerald
Stop trying to wake yourself up.
My parents are not dead.
I am not rich.
I have no wards.
I employ no hired help.
I'm not a genius.
And I have no enemies.
I am only a small man with big thoughts.
A big heart.
Small beginnings.
Haunted much.
But I try not to sweat the small stuff.
I will always be here.
I will be here way after you are gone.
All of you.
I miss you now.
You need to WAKE UP.
Never sleep again.
Every night is a daymare.
You won't forget this tomorrow morning.
I am not rich.
I have no wards.
I employ no hired help.
I'm not a genius.
And I have no enemies.
I am only a small man with big thoughts.
A big heart.
Small beginnings.
Haunted much.
But I try not to sweat the small stuff.
I will always be here.
I will be here way after you are gone.
All of you.
I miss you now.
Get moving.
Get out of your own head.
And remember EVERYTHING.
Good day
and
Good night
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