.call it arrogance, call it exclusivity, fear of social rejection call it whatever you desire but i've no shame for the self preserving, actual factual compulsion to run my ears away till they are free from radio-keep my eyes shut tightly against the puppet heads on the television, wrap my mind in a safe and breathable gauze, duck when passing windows and stay quietly in my room where a new and alien process of thinking is germinating in a chipped drinking glass, hidden under the bed.
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speak to the dark angels
6 Comments:
i spoke of you today.
i spoke to another blogger with words and phrases of high praise.
like an awe struck child who sits amazed whilst a favourite relative draws space aliens that seem to live and breath and jump off of the page and bite you.
just so do your words.
amazing but woefully sad just like the chipped glass that lies hidden under the bed.
mhaha! I agree.
My whisky glass is chipped, too. I need to remove it from my bed stand and place it under the bed.
And, I like the way you began with a "."
Nice.
raven>>>doriandra is very special. thanx
illimitable>>>you never know which way she will go. always good though.
Pour some hot rum and watch it chip just a little bit more, and I'm not talking about just the glass.
Nice piece!
inkblot>>>many thanks.
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