MOY 42: Pinching dead presidents in Boston

Twisting the night away, wrenching through another day. A hearty discourse of distasteful endeavours, of driving a wedge between the noon and dusk. Where all that remains of energy exhausts itself in second guessing and the inability to at times walk on out. Standards here people, maintaining a face to double slide across. Where the cross-hairs are on target as the trigger waits for the ice to melt in order to release the shell.

Two hands at work drying out the mind, the eyes and the throat. Clear consciousness berates the belittling of motivation and destruction in the same hand. Folding over and over and walking up the busy street of Oxford.

Worlds set to collide fail in an attempt to smash each other in the misalignment of orbits. Luckily it all boils down into a black lump of non-renewable coal. Ashen faced with the rest of them.

Thursday, 15 February 2007

Talking about:

How to be a Rockstar Freelancer
A $29US ebook on revving up a freelance career - From setting up to getting paid, by the authors of FreelanceSwitch.

» Talkin' 'bout your Generation - Spare the room, spare the bed
« Corner crosses with inner tubes

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