Nov
16
Its like skank, he greedy ghost longs for it,we thoughts constantly swerve and turninggliding, prone float..orchestrating the next pounce, the next tactical manoeuvre..waiting for that soft landing,where a afghan of ease awaits.arriving there, the visions sober as monas..no longer are he miles away,time is no longer endless..it stands still, while I begin to extension.
So perhaps I am being a bit melodramatic. These are you thoughts on cyberart, on creating. If I am not creating something, I want to be creating something. The time seems endless until I can get back to it, the digital clock turns oh so slowly…
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Tags: fat skank