I'm thinking that I'm becoming clued again. Still, as I walk around outside, the elements of schizophrenia occasionally glance into my view. Long leaves of shrubbery leaned by the wind through its courses seem to bow to me as I pass. I am looking for the perfect purple flower. I want to honor my debts.
Hope is on my side, I believe. Trace the outline of my soul and you have the whole thing, perhaps. Perhaps I am only an outline of a person, after all. I still need to be filled in, which is sad, knowing how old I am. Desperado, you ain't gettin' no younger.... I have cartoon dreams. Strange things still happen, though the suffering (I think) will pass. Dream a little dream of me; I'm the bastard who's yelling "Cut!" before you get the girl (or guy).
Christoph
7:00pm tuesday, 25th september
I LOVE this one! Very visual, and very...personal. I felt a bit like a bad little boy peering through binoculars at the neighbors. Keep writing!
Christoph