What are we?

The sleeping world, and the end of the thoughts. What are we? What am I? These words are paintings of thoughts, of just that, of just there, of voices inside of our heads. Two days, gone. Today, gone. Still, gone. Writing brings back the insanity that I wish I still suffered from. In the basement with  black and white… Continue reading What are we?


(B). The first writing I posted. Where the adventure started. ha! I mean picked up. Thats my sword, an old letter opener.  I also have pens that I call knifes.  ha. anyway...read where I started bleeding my art, my friend, my foe, my teacher, my eyes, my fiction and kinda fiction, dreams and mares, my… Continue reading (B)