311) Fear the gods, do them a favor
312) don't be a bitch
313) The idea that got me thinking tonight. The self-aware succss. The robot of imagination. The last dying breath of the greatest warrior. That which was all recognize, but very few know how to effect.
314) Awkward prose has no place here. Smooth whispers of philosophy steam and sweat.
315. The spray painted trains on the way to work: this recession was god's defensive act to save those beautiful trains. When they are gone, there will be sadness. I'll film those trains. I'll photograph them too.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
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The smooth whispers come straight from the soul, from the sun, from the sky. They can't be contrived. They come like the birth of a child. They scream to be heard and fed.
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