in the delectable haze of creative flow,
i did not catch the time slipping to early monday morning.

full moon magic produced words like i’ve never expressed. there is an understanding now, between me and the universe: an understanding of writing, as a practice. of words being like a wine bottled yesterday: needing to ripen with age.

life was built to explore.

no one will play tour guide.

there is no use in hiding expression.

bleed everywhere.


This entry was published on January 28, 2013 at 12:20 am and is filed under creative conversation, creativity, dreams and things, emotions and stuff, happy heart, happy life, head trips, honest conversation, life, photography, poetry, rambles and writing, weird, words, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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