“What do you do?” ” I work. I earn a living.” “Doing what?”  “An honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay.”  “I am an artist,   though,  …..””oh reeeally, what’s your medium, have you sold any?”  “It’s not a productive cash cow, art, it’s a way of life, id. A diferent and detailed version of what everyone else doesn’t see. A gift.”  “oh.”  The anthropoid turns heal and greets other guests, and the freak stands alone, looking for the neerest exit, free drinks along the way, retiring to think, and clarify, and dream.



One thought on “

  1. I fuckin really loved what i wrote. I’ve read it, and read it, and read it……and THEN…… and then……
    I had other thoughts, FWAMPS, however coming back was such a shit show getting to my site,…..I lost my train of thought. I am grateful for a forum to write my philantropes. I spook when there are gates and fences. Not to mention, changing my passwords and never remembering them.
    And such it is.


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