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.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
8-25-93 My God, My Goddess!
Bring back happy hedgerow after clattered beatings of whimbly-nimbly cantankerousness, charred like rind fish brought to boil in Red seas. Thank it from me, when it comes down, It comes away from the core, the ugly master bereaved to berserkerness, under scrutiny of the King, who looks for special daughters and calls out again and again, a fool for time and a fool for engine. Blanks under the shadow of plywood ghosts, haggard with the twelve years he worked some deal for the dale, the hangman jerks his shaking hat to adjust for the incline, but fails to notice the small waif, a sandman, who trips his suitcase, then runs onto the tracks. Once, we took away every thing for our big dream, but we did nothing but stumble on the way, and are now ashamed.
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