Hi dear reader, my birthday is 2 days from now. yes you’ve heard it right, it’s on Saturday, the 1st of June. So spare yourself some time to wish me.
Shine shine. Reap. Blue and black and grey. Deep violet. Empty shadows. Artworks and artists. Depressed poets. Beauty all over and all beneath. An exhibition of impulses and the barbarism of verses. Take a breath!
Sing the sound of sopranos and read those long catechisms with your eyes shut. Even if you can’t hear them being uttered to you by the soft screechy voice. Put those spare colors on your walls. Street art is never unappreciated, unless it sucks. Cover the shores of the sultry with a salute to Hollywood and get back those old meaningless stuff you used to write. You are a slightly better writer now, but still you are sometimes too poetic. Sometimes you lack poetry. take a breath. i was speaking to myself.