mantra

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.

- friedrich nietzsche

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wiki.dumper
magmozine
a.guy.site
bad.chinese.mama
jejune.net
a.cause.des.garcons
spit.on.a.stranger
sluggernaut
honeyee
zefrank
born.a.waterhead
diane.pernet
tribe.net
gallery.of.the.absurd
world.community.grid
smarty.pants
bradford.shellhammer
wonder.boy
ohlala.mag
julie.fredrickson
fashionologie

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thoughts.gone.by

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maybe it's a sign. the whole 'aspiring novelist' thing. looking at my past, i have two incomplete novel? novella? short story?...depends on how you'd like to see it, really. i am so distracted and unfocused, i lost interest in finishing them. this was written five years ago. i don't know if i should revisit it, or leave it in the back burner and conjure another interesting idea. also, i should start writing on a screenplay that i developed years ago. again, this could just be lip service (in this case, finger service?).

another task on my 'to-do' list is to write many articles as possible. i don't think i could use my other two articles i wrote years ago. it's far too...dated. i think. as usual, nothing my my posts makes perfect sense since no particular reason was given to any remarks or any background information assigned to any particular scenarios described. that's the point. i like to unload my mental/emotional burden, but i simply cannot be too transparent. you can't have the cake and eat it too. you just can't.




posted by frau frump.

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