i write the same few words in an ever slightly changing cycle of response; then, in a moment, i'll break and write what i don't mean. momentarily popular by extension and reflection of quite public demands, i then recede to write again the few words i really mean.
we are, after all, quite simple and similar: by examining myself i know many things about everyone before ever taking the time to meet them. it saves energy, as i sit alone on a bench that starts on a metro train and slowly becomes my empty apartment's darkened porch. saves talking and trouble of us ever meeting because, as i shall never tire of pointing out: i already know you.--there, the tripe i write in a hundred only imaginarily different ways, writ once more. in which regard, you already know me, too, i suppose. touché.
may '11
Nice work! Hey, what's your full name? I want to credit you on an illustration you did of Atticus Finch, which I'd like to use in marketing for my startup publishing house. I sought your permission via e-mail but never heard from you.
ReplyDeleteseeing as i don't draw, you probably have the wrong person.
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