Flurry comes quick, the fury of the hands quicker and the pace of watching regular strangers blank the mind is an onslaught for the new old made into the old new again. One after the other, noses and chins looking like that which has come before ghosts images between the black slots bearing numbers to their eyebrows.
Memory plays a game of lapse, folding and holding on to the crevices and cracks. Slipping through, it's a coin purse jangling the distant halls of the skull and the cavernous regions.
Rewiring takes a pulse to slow down and by the end of knowing the fit and feel, darkness sits outside waiting for a friendly ride home.
Soon Van - Saturday, 17 March 2007 - 18:12
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Creativity starves insanity