I read stories about hard boiled detectives in streets of noir. It makes smoking seem cool. I read ancient samurai thoughts and philosophies. It makes me think I can fight. I raise fifty-five cents pre flop. It makes feel like 007.I drive at four in the morning. It makes me feel like the desert. I think in romance. Because I’m ugly on the inside. And maybe the outside too. I watch TV and movies. I am Mr. White. I am Brock Samson. I am Private Joker. I dream of illusions. They make me feel like a magic man. I talk about delusions. It makes me feel like there’s something beneath my tongue. I smile when the sleepy sun paints the sky in cherry. It reminds me of wonderful things. So this is ArtisticThings.com eh. I don’t think I’ll make a big difference. But what else can I say. Maybe you’ll see me on the street one day. You can tell me how much i suck. We’ll have a drink, maybe a cigarette and then I’ll write about it all. Because there isn’t that much going on with the goo in my head.
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