July 31, 2000: Unmasked reality painted by reality’s child

My mind never stops—nor do I feel. I should make it. I see rows of color, smell scent after scent—only to attempt to duplicate all that brings peace to a half a cup of emptiness. When I dream, it’s as if I’m acting out. When I speak, thunder roars off the mighty stage. It isn’t that I over produce—ok, it is…but you haven’t the know, to understand what it’s like to hold a half a cup of emptiness—therefore, I create.