i used to be able to say a lot with words. you know, the whole poetic spill your guts out and amillion screaming teenage girls fall madly in love with you and about twelve screaming guys wish they were you.
these days i can't just seem to find the time.
i can write about the dream i had the other night with you in it. it was swell. then i woke up. i went back to sleep trying to dream of you again and instead i dreamt only of you.
ad infinitum.
anyway, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then consider this video my first self-indulgent novel:
About Me
- deepfix
- "He began by looking into Egypt: poking into the ruins, lugging home from the Brooklyn Public big folios, sniffing at indexes, settling down to browse. In none of them what he was looking for, The topic was vast, of course, and Egyptology took up long shelves at the library, having its own Old, Middle, and New Kingdoms: antique mutivolume studies from whose ancient silt poked up etched plates, and then newer mythographical analyses clinker-built and obdurate as pyramids, and lastly decadent popular works chock-ful of color photos-in none of them was the country he sought. He felt like someone who had set out for the Memphis of crocodiles and moonlit temples and wound up in Tennessee." - John Crowley
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