Saturday, 7 May 2011

One born every minute

Protean. An entity yet unformed by the wholeness of self-actualisation though action; through purpose. Caught in the spooling reel of fractured dreamscapes; of portent and signifier without context; without the great overarching narrative; without the fixed point yet to arise over the horizon, breaking the flattening darkness of foreground and heralded by the winged chorus.

4 comments:

  1. Sometimes I think it might be worth working everyday to avoid Mondays.

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  2. It made me think of my son peeing on me seconds after he was born.

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