"It is exactly because life is a series of confrontations with the mundane that we observe so little, and therefore the artist’s role becomes not to illustrate the fantastic, but rather to illuminate the obvious."
A little insight
inside my head: a maze of thoughts
outside my head: the zing zing of the slinkey
color: strawberry red
smell: baby powder
taste: ranch dressing
looking forward to: tomorrow's adventure
to avoid: why avoid the inevitable?
career choice: stay at home mom
wishing: "if you could meet anyone in the world, living or dead, real or fictional, who would it be?"
"my husband. like right now, that would be awesome."
what about everything?
Holiday quiet on these streets, except for some reason me
The hometown harbor lights bright, the sailboats clatter in vain
Holiday sky, midnight clear
Wind is high on this pier
I find it hard to complain when compared with what about...
What about everything?
What about aeroplanes?
And what about ships that drank the sea?
What about the moon and stars?
What about soldier battle scars
And all the anger that they eat?
What about aliens? What about you and me and...
What about gold beneath the sea?
What about when buildings fall?
What about that midnight phone call...
The one that wakes you from your peace?
Well, I am not, I am not, I am not in need