I told them stories of women who walked on water holding fire in their hands. I painted pictures of moments that I had never lived yet remembered clearly. I have sex drenched waking dreams and spin my web around the clouds. I am one of us and not like us at all.
There is legend that surrounds the living; every place that we stand one where life has been given and taken away, where stories have been altered. We go on, hurried and resolute, refusing to acknowledge the distance that has been traversed. Everything is fleeting...I have come to accept this...life and love and beauty eaten away by each passing hour.
Now, I sit before the canvas and all that I can see is the blankness. Growing older and finally growing up has caused me to lose touch with the otherworld in which I once lived. I was an artist, a painter, a creator of things that would live beyond me and prove to the world that I had been here. Now, I am someone else completely and I wonder where I went in all of this. I try to find the precise moment when I morphed into this person that I don't recognize at all.
I am adrift in a sea of all of the women I have been.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

new aim suckas: afreemangie

myspace me: awriterneverdies@hotmail.com