"I met this girl when I was ten years old..." - Common Sense
I read a lot of literature, I listen to a lot of music, I write a lot of literature and a lot of music makes me.
She moves her lips, daggers fly,
she lashes out and so do I.
My mind is dodging, evasively;
the tears are burning, my heart screams.
My chest is quaking as my heart beats,
because I realize, i’m losing we;
It’s you and I, not he and she.
She’s walking out, she’s gonna leave;
we can try-wont you please.
Pulsing red, she’s breathing heavily;
I’m lost for color, the spectrum bleed.
She’s out the door, lost in the snow,
the fire’s blazing, the house is cold.
The inferno shrivels to the coals,
The darkness conquers, the story folds.
LARRY
LARRY
When I get an idea, I'm like a dog with a bone about it- once it manifests I have full blown plans and a lot of the time it GROWS so much that I grow tired of thinking about it and the idea is lost on me forever.
I think of life as a stream of consciousness, even when you're asleep there is always some sort of tangible idea going through your mind- Can you imagine that yourself standing in a river of ideas with it's flowing rapids constantly swaying you? How firm is your footing in your river?
