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Here, awaits your chance to unravel very fragile pieces of my brain.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

illusion

Time sways. Time mocks. Time crawls. Time creeps. Time draws. Time sings. Time does it all.
When you don't feel, turn on the right tune. Knock off the cat's meow.
Call it a night-a night away from the discontinuing energy. Create your own field of attraction. Listen to that gut, big or small, and throw on those headphones. Pick up the pen. Don't escape, but escort yourself out. Atta boy. Proper, just like his grandfather taught him.

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