haha, this poor guys job SUCKS. Can you imagine how many vehicles splash him.....severely reduce the time before that shirt becomes infested with gutter water.
Aww, don't worry. Your muse will be rejuvenated in no time. The more you worry about it the more elusive it will become. Sort of like me and my ability to write. Unbidden, I can write and write and write but words fail me when I actually sit down with pen in hand with the intent of writing. :(
I am me. I am no other, and no other is I.
Ali is an enigma, a constant, neverending search.
A spirit that wanders, and a soul that fades. Only to return ever stronger.
His mind searches for patterns within the chaos, music within the cacophony, order in turmoil, and enlightenment within the darkness.
His heart searches for his love within his hate, and his hate within his love, and all that lies inbetween. It searches for pleasure within pain, and fills his belly with hunger, and consoles him with a companion called longing.
His soul searches for moments of truth, in an endless sea of lies, for that spark of divinity that lie within all that is small. It searches for purpose amongst endless galaxies of probability, and it shuns the universe, thinking it limited compared to the infinite recesses within.
I'm also the typo king. And I like cheese.
4 of them wept:
I think its funny too.. bechara traffic guy.
haha, this poor guys job SUCKS. Can you imagine how many vehicles splash him.....severely reduce the time before that shirt becomes infested with gutter water.
Interesting picture, over which I like the layout of your blog.
Aww, don't worry. Your muse will be rejuvenated in no time. The more you worry about it the more elusive it will become.
Sort of like me and my ability to write. Unbidden, I can write and write and write but words fail me when I actually sit down with pen in hand with the intent of writing. :(
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