Upon the littered streets of Chelsea, Sheridan Square, Christopher Street, the pier, the trucks & my old neighborhood over off Bank street by H. B. Studios lay debris & detriment & minced miniature genitalia of yesterday’s used up action figures greeting good morning through hazed, petrol glassed, excremental eyes.


The wisdom of many a great sage directs us to be grateful for what we do have & be here now. Nowhere will you find any great thinker admonishing you to relinquish, relent or let the winds of empty promises impale your dreams of a greater longing. By your understanding of your own ultimate authority, which is the source of all power, you will achieve, without the burden of a anxious attachment, that which some call your destiny fulfilled. You are already your destiny fulfilled.

Your dreams are the fuel which propels our collective spirit to greater heights. I


Throw caution to the wind. She knows what to do with it. Follow me. We’ll have fun playing under the desert sun. I’m not asking for your hand n marriage. I stand too much to lose. As you,  I need to be free. I am. That’s why I am fond of you. I see me in you & I love what I see. You have wings that never stop flapping. You are the great Gossamer. 

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