January 2005.
What a creep.
The end drove me to foresee.
Imagination went wild.
New creature arose.
A whole new world.
New different level.
Living on the edge.
With the creatures I created myself.
They are all fiction.
Yet I believe in them.
Postulating them real.
How?
To stop presupposing.
Haul me.
Salvage me.
Patronize me.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
January 2005.
What a creep.
The end drove me to foresee.
Imagination went wild.
New creature arose.
A whole new world.
New different level.
Living on the edge.
With the creatures I created myself.
They are all fiction.
Yet I believe in them.
Postulating them real.
How?
To stop presupposing.
Haul me.
Salvage me.
Patronize me.