Oh, lurid San Francisco, harsh in your corners and abandoned doorways
poetry
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A Bumbling Fool and a Man with a Wife
Sitting alone in this brown wooden chair with the beige upholstery, the one that connie purchased for me.
poetry
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so far from enlightenment, so close to bliss
Feeling frustrated, over stimulated, like too many thoughts and obsessions and fantasies and perceptions of myself and what I want to be and what people think of me […]
poetry
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when I was writing in a cafe in Prague
Is it possible, to be all that I wish to be,
to live out the stories I tell in mind
Uncategorized
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San Francisco spirit ramblings
Someone told me; the artist is not the talented, but the brave, the un-accepting of society