my piano has been drinking

so in a few days i'll be gone. im desperate to go.

im thinking about running around in a sheet, lying on a hard desert floor, drinking sun, painting on strangers, riding to the sight of mountains, singing out loud. but i cant really imagine what lies in store.

The key question isn’t ‘What fosters creativity?’ But it is why in God’s name isn’t everyone creative? Where was the human potential lost? How was it crippled? I think therefore a good question might be now why do people create? But why do people not create or innovate? We have got to abandon that sense of amazement in the face of creativity, as if it were a miracle if anybody created anything.
Abraham Maslow

50 years

"I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain."
— John Keats (Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne)

it felt mental

decipher. but not too much so. ponder, until it shows. until you get the face you deserve. wonder. where does it all go. fluids to alter, sounds to transport.

live in fear?

nothing gets as close as this

if you've got troubles

the simple reasoning,

wisdom you pay for later.

you just knew too much...

much for the palm hungry chapter

(to bed, to fake sleep)

i was murdered.

did i have to know?

is it rebirth, is it true?

how do i get

to be inside

you