Jwm502

Muscles tense and spasm, the body clenches tightly, the areas around the eyes buzz, vibrate in anticipation. The words are there, somewhere, they constantly pour down in my rainforest of consciousness. My perfect ode is in existence, it is within the soil, the roots, the bark. My inner voice screams it at me, fingernails digging into meaty palms. My inspiration is there, the words form my imagination. He tries to communicate my nation of mind’s eye, my fingers the translators on the keys, my eyes the examiners. The words fight for existence in the guttural throat, they brawl with tightness, collide with entrapped air. Frus

You know, things just start happening sometimes don’t they. 11:08. There comes a time when you are sat in your dining room, staring at the web pages on your iMac, staring but not looking, not recording, the music is playing ‘I speak in many tongues to many men, Argue with angels and always win’, you hear it but you aren’t really listening. 11:10. This is the time that your inner-voice ponders in his own direction, he strolls through the lists of what really you should or even could be doing at the minute, leaving you to be an empty shell, the hollow man with eyes, which are starting to become slightly blurry, boring in