Apr 2019
It's like a stupid, ******* game of Jenga or building blocks.
A proud child will spend all their time building, constructing, carefully, and tediously placing one block atop the other.
A big beautiful tower.
Glowing, the child basks in the glory and contentment of having created such a beautiful thing from such hard work.
But alas, the tower crashes and falls.
Blocks spilling everywhere and in all directions.
Complete annihilation.
The child is devastated.
It must begin from scratch.
Picking up and also having to find where the pieces may have landed.
Tears in her eyes, she recuperates and she grudgingly must begin anew.
An entire new tower from the debris.
I am the tower.
I am the child.
I must begin again.
A proud child will spend all their time building, constructing, carefully, and tediously placing one block atop the other.
A big beautiful tower.
Glowing, the child basks in the glory and contentment of having created such a beautiful thing from such hard work.
But alas, the tower crashes and falls.
Blocks spilling everywhere and in all directions.
Complete annihilation.
The child is devastated.
It must begin from scratch.
Picking up and also having to find where the pieces may have landed.
Tears in her eyes, she recuperates and she grudgingly must begin anew.
An entire new tower from the debris.
I am the tower.
I am the child.
I must begin again.
2012-2013
This was something that I wrote very haphazardly in my art journal and that I found again recently. I must have written it in 2012 or 2013. Here I am 7 years later transcribing it on to the world wide web.
This was something that I wrote very haphazardly in my art journal and that I found again recently. I must have written it in 2012 or 2013. Here I am 7 years later transcribing it on to the world wide web.
