As it was once said, long ago, before the old were upon the earth, and only the beasts held conference, that a travelling movement, a redundant treat, can taste like the hauling motion of a Jakanape. Then again, many things are said by few, and those we hear are but a shade of the hue. Bring the lights down, this is where it gets sloppy, where the mishmash is blasted through a narrow tube towards unwarned abandon, a bastion; a truth; Dividenedum!
While people's brains toil about,
Killing again, tilling soil 'til they shout,
"existence, why have you come,
and caught me as I am, dumb."
Existence was pissed with chagrin,
you don't say her name without a capital Gin.
When some may think of bowers, you may think of
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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