Thursday, October 02, 2003
At 2:41 in the morning, the world looked like a portrait of a painting. I wanted to smudge it with my thumb.
What can I say anymore? I'm stumped. I've painted myself into a corner. I could careless about the mess I've made, or will soon make. I'm letting go of everything, and just letting it fall into the hands of fate. Which is a pretty god damn passive thing to do, but I'm done. Finito!
Voila.
What can I say anymore? I'm stumped. I've painted myself into a corner. I could careless about the mess I've made, or will soon make. I'm letting go of everything, and just letting it fall into the hands of fate. Which is a pretty god damn passive thing to do, but I'm done. Finito!
Voila.
