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a passionate repentance



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may God stand
They say everything is fodder, to a writer.

Some things, I'm just not sure how they *become* fodder. How you get them from their natural state to a less ..odiferous composting material.

Some of my memories seem so very *narrow*. Like snapshots of a particular moment. Even..second. Stuff that I don't know if anyone else will ever care about.

So I spend a lot of time writing about things I don't really know much about but that I like to read about.

I'm really afraid that I'm just a bad to mediocre writer and a really good *reader*.

What does that say about a person if their only real talent is to consume?

I haven't had enough sleep..I'm in the craptacular writing phase again. Welcome to my nightmare, William Burroughs.

I think Bosch would have gotten along very well with Burroughs. They both had the same monstrous-insect-eating-my-head approach to life. Burroughs just got to say it later on, with more modern props.

If there's a da Vinci Code, shouldn't there be a Hieronymus Bosch Code? Something you track down in the heart of a maze at midnight, only to discover the absolute truth. The universe is a giant strawberry, being eaten by an even more giant crab.
  • Nah. Bosch doesn't use code, he's too obvious. Just look at the II world war prophecy on 'Garden of Earthly Pleasures'. This ain't a code, this is smacking us on the head with a blunt object screaming 'Bombing of Dresden! Bombing of Dresden!' etc.
  • What does that say about a person if their only real talent is to consume?
    Consume, eh?

    You made me cry this morning, reading one. So there.
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