Glade of the King

I have too many stories going outside the computer. I really need someone to type for me. I continue to be devoted to scribbling with pen and ink. I force myself to translate my script to digital text, but I continue to find excuses to keep writing new ideas instead.

Monday, May 17, 2004

The cold sea slapped across my chest knocking me to dull sand with a club of icy needles then sucked at me drawing me into the specious warmth of it's January waters



When young and asked what I would like to be when I grew up I would answer. "Alive"
I hope I did not curse myself to that fate.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home