Random rants on a bus ride.
The pen never left the paper from the start till the end of the journey.
Ink blots are the stops the bus made.
Easier said, the pen is the bus and the paper is the road.
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Where Will We Be When the Sun Goes Down
robots lack imagination; sheep are vengeful creatures.
I is Not a Robot
- fellovespurple
- Am terribly modest, outstandingly humble. Exceedingly nice and really honest(about nice bit). Do take note of that. Warning to all: A very confused person; somewhat deranged(has an alter ego named Gaia). Loves poetry, art, and all things dreamy. Enjoys indulging me. A self-proclaimed gazillionaire(so rich till appear broke). Free-spirited. Will work for food/beer. Has an unhealthy obsessive relationship with purple. Only purple.
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