some moons back...
I have issues with black ink written on yellowed brown in halting yet moving verse! I am yet to come to terms with this orchestra, this strange but all familiar tune!
I want these words to shake off their insolence and stand up for themselves!
Elucidate, speak of the vagaries of time and chance, things of the gamine nature, which have no bearing on the destinies of today. They must become orderlies of the fecund mind and temptresses of day-altering truth!
I will completely fill these pages with me, infest them with my curved signature. Emboss it with verbose authority so that it ceases to have identity of its own if not from my tepid infiltration. How infectious could I get, how random, how withdrawn when I write here how singularly insular or how cumbersome and comely.
Whatever was the rage, is all on the page.
The yesterdays, todays and tomorrows. the absences, malignant tumour of the unknown withheld on pages...so that this paper has no other face, other than the role i give it to play.
The only soliloqy of mine, that I give it to make its own!
I want these words to shake off their insolence and stand up for themselves!
Elucidate, speak of the vagaries of time and chance, things of the gamine nature, which have no bearing on the destinies of today. They must become orderlies of the fecund mind and temptresses of day-altering truth!
I will completely fill these pages with me, infest them with my curved signature. Emboss it with verbose authority so that it ceases to have identity of its own if not from my tepid infiltration. How infectious could I get, how random, how withdrawn when I write here how singularly insular or how cumbersome and comely.
Whatever was the rage, is all on the page.
The yesterdays, todays and tomorrows. the absences, malignant tumour of the unknown withheld on pages...so that this paper has no other face, other than the role i give it to play.
The only soliloqy of mine, that I give it to make its own!
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