1.
- is not a photographer.
- steals from the world in abstract.
- breaks rules.
- drives faster than she should.
- wonders about noumena.
2.
- built herself out of cardboard and dye.
- sees sound, hears colour, finds pathways in air.
- talks about herself in third person.
- can give you an explanation for anything.
- is probably a narcissist.
3.
- should run more, sleep less.
- should write more, talk less.
- should read more, drink less.
- feels better in the dark.
4.
- is buried in paper and sugar and cloth and ink.
- wonders how she burnt her fingers.
- is not going to tempt the wrath from high atop the thing. Not now, not here, not like this.
And I hate:
- waiting.
- nausea.
- slowing down.
The duality of potency and act fall by the same stroke. The act is everything. Potential is not real, there is only manifestation.
“How complicated we make the world,” she thinks, with a sigh.
It’s time to write.
This little piggy is driving along back streets finding his way home late at night by sense alone and faded memorys of roads he once traveled.
This little piggy may just take a wrong turn off a road he knows so he can get lost again just to enjoy the drive a little longer.
This little piggy owes you a pretty painting and a thank you for an awesome friendship.
This little piggy thinks the world of you and your writting xoxox
p.s. (you owe this piggy a bottle of vodka) lol