The beast unseen, the routine. The slow callous of the soul. How quickly we fall into the beautiful comfort of the monster with a velvet mouth; familiarity, security. The sound of the door slowly creaking closed, the spirit realm behind an eery knowing you cant trust.
Then the days go by and I am still searching for something. What? What?
The fisherman pulled the line from the shallow waters and looked at his bait untouched
Did I just ask god if I am an atheist?
Ok, but no one told me how difficult it was being optimistic.
Walking down Bangla Rd. There is a monsoon in Phuket, and still there are more prostitutes than rain drops.
“Do you think you create fake friends, and fake stories, to hold a form of control, and to live through a made-up world where you are safe, to not bear the pain of reality?” my imaginary friend asked. “Probably,” I replied.
If you are so good, do it yourself, reinvent the world. The arts do not need a gatekeeper. It has the beauty of the rose with the determination of a weed.
I'm sorry Michelle, I have a sense of freedom that is easily corrupted. I live in a world of seduction and I'm a measly fool.
Could it be, she is a victim of her reputation, by becoming what they think of her in a rebellion to what they think of her?
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