Hmming. My final semester at the university. Taking eighteen credits. Not my initial intention, but my two additional classes on creativity were  too difficult to pass up. I may not have the opportunity to take more college course in a long while.

Confidence is important. Domination is important.

Framing, ancorin.

The chivalrous life. Words. Same old words. Sublime. Taking a nap. Feeling is important for fire. And only fire can provide life with light. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Smooth speak. Easy gestures. The soft smile. The skeptical glance. I want to touch those soft lips. Want to grasp your delicate face, run my fingers through your gold hair. Your eyes. Penetrate and strike my soul. My heart leaps against the walls. It begs to spread its wings, to capture the currents with its broad embrace. I hesitate, retrace these urges, question their genuine nature. Gold glimmers, and stays.

REcapitulate your life with words. With symbols. With swooping feelings, long and fast strokes. Carry me on your voice. With your breath.

IT’s all been done before. The greeks, the homeric poems, have captured the human condition more succinctly thatn we’ve tried to reinvent  for tousands of years. We are an extension, a hallow extension, warped with gangrene tentacles. Demons were genius. Synonymoux.

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