Instinctively
I reach
The lady shows me two dolls on the table. She asks me which doll is the nice doll, so I
point to the nice doll. The lady asks me
which doll is the bad doll, so I point to the other doll. Then the lady asks me which doll is most like
you...
Instinctively I reach for the first doll, but a storm begins to
form in my head. It changes the
direction of my mind and then of my hand.
What is inside of that storm?
Here is what is inside of that storm.
Surprising White Anger whipping the distant spaces into an
omni-darkness of Unnecessary White Anger rifled by flashes of Dangerous White
Anger and soft booming sounds of My Own Fear. My Own Fear towers growing closer
at the center and magnetizes far flung bits of My own exasperation back into My
Own Kind fear. And then, More White
Anger-again, resting me suddenly done, saddened and brokened.
February
1, 2009
~livicated
to all these beautiful yut that don’t know their last name is european (and)
but that doesn’t mean they are european. -go on sister Bight. u on the good path chicken.
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