Tuesday, November 1, 2011


A severely impenetrable wall blocks my view of the supposed setting sun.

While i struggle to regain my line of sight my mind gives in to a notion of

stinging, jetting, crushed blue felt on the table draped over the shelf

giving in to what seems like help

a welcoming invitation to a somewhat intriguing dissertation

on becoming a creative who seeks out liberation

something that makes sense but that isn't understood

is like drawing a chair made of wooden metal glue

it would be something new

it would be something true

but i cant help but think of the people that just don't care.

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