As I read D's post , I realize how much I miss the years that I will never get back. I'm not necessarily sad about it; its more about how much time has passed. I sit and think about all the work that I have done. However, its all okay. All the work is worth it; it allows me to make work like this!
I sit in wait for inspiration to come. What if it never does? Could I stay in this perpetual purgatory for eternity whilst my assignments slip out from my grasp? I aspire to be more than the average slacker sitting at a desk ripe with clutter and memories. See the sand in that jar and remember days past? No, I guess I'm the only one that does... I need to clean!
Seriously though. If you rub my ears together you could probably start a fire, and in this fire you could throw your ambitions for the future. Burn you illusions of grander! Heat my body but leave my soul desolate and yearning for something more! Burn your ambitions! Feel the flames slobber upon the soles of your feet; they're there for their recompense and your damnation.
Did I mention damnation? I damn myself for such images. How could I e'er bring such harsh and unwelcoming words to a place so foul and fraught with pessimism. Perchance a place worthy of such desolation will cast a shadow greater than what can ever foretell, but this scant opportunity will hopefully pass us all bye; spreading of wings will facilitate a trip far beyond the normal capacity.
These horns will sound a fury of seraphic sounds, hale and hearty in the attempts for succession. Perchance they will bring about real and fruitful change, these wings o' mine. Maybe the life lived with wings spread wide will encourage a renaissance in our culture that depends so much on oneself own self-deprivation.
On that note, I will write another blog post!
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