I’ve called myself a lotta things over the years, metaphoricized (not a word) myself in about 300 dozen different combinations. One, was dream based and visioned while I was slumbering, but I saw myself as a rain cloud, as a thunderstorm swollen with lightning and water. Thought about that a lot lately, about what it is to pour out, what it is to offer up your water to the masses, to not wonder what they think of the wetness, but just hope they know you had no choice in the pouring. I promised this pouring years ago, told everyone who bothered to listen that I write because I must, I share it because people I loved and trusted told me it just might be important to do so, that someone, somewhere, might need these silly words my brain keeps cooking up. So I poured.
Typewriter Series #3081 | 8.12.21
Typewriter Series #3081 | 8.12.21
Typewriter Series #3081 | 8.12.21
I’ve called myself a lotta things over the years, metaphoricized (not a word) myself in about 300 dozen different combinations. One, was dream based and visioned while I was slumbering, but I saw myself as a rain cloud, as a thunderstorm swollen with lightning and water. Thought about that a lot lately, about what it is to pour out, what it is to offer up your water to the masses, to not wonder what they think of the wetness, but just hope they know you had no choice in the pouring. I promised this pouring years ago, told everyone who bothered to listen that I write because I must, I share it because people I loved and trusted told me it just might be important to do so, that someone, somewhere, might need these silly words my brain keeps cooking up. So I poured.