jones' bohemian raspberry.
there's certain little picture frames i have caught in my mind... none of them are expliciable. i'm just waiting for the images to condense, spread out. write their own poetry on the back for me to read, analyze, examine.
i'm okay with just waiting, in some ways, but i also feel the need to push through the wait. to force myself to read others, to make assumptions, to take even the smallest steps towards making it more comprehensible when it does crystalize. if it does, because i can't be so sure about these things. pictures don't write, you know.
but secretly, i'm an optimist.
i'm okay with just waiting, in some ways, but i also feel the need to push through the wait. to force myself to read others, to make assumptions, to take even the smallest steps towards making it more comprehensible when it does crystalize. if it does, because i can't be so sure about these things. pictures don't write, you know.
but secretly, i'm an optimist.