Big dragon number one, bagged and tagged. The lesser creatures crouch in the hollows of darkness and distance. They pretend that the days aren't passing nearly as fast as I know them to be. What would I say? one day, when long after my card's been played, and someone comes to me to ask why? I'll stumble and fall for there is no reason in back thought, only the present. I'm a hollow soul when I existed, as I exist, the world lives inside me. Heaven and earth, matter and void.
Frowning sweetly to himself,
another torrent outside the small,
oval window above that shelf,
that held a flower so tall,
that its stem perspired as it tried,
to hold up what it can't hope,
to really do, so it died.
He grabbed again for the dope.
Don't ever forget that you don't know until you know it all. You can't know it all. Some try.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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