I mean no harm, I mean no trouble
I live inside a metaphoric bubble
All I need is a place I can call my own
A slice of the world that is mine alone
Where thoughts and ideas can in freedom reside
And tales of wonder and gloom safely hide
I live inside a metaphoric bubble
All I need is a place I can call my own
A slice of the world that is mine alone
Where thoughts and ideas can in freedom reside
And tales of wonder and gloom safely hide
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
THE AUTHOR
I am the true artist. The most beautiful, the grandest, the unimaginable…the greatest images flow from my pen. Words are the paint that I dip my brush into. And my canvas, you ask? Why, your mind of course. Swiftly and slyly I slowly intrigue you with a thought, with a question, with an idea. Like a skillful puppet master I make my words dance over the stage of your impressionable mind. And draw you in slowly until I hold your imagination within the palm of my hand. What happens next? That’s for me to decide. Will you feel sadness or outrage or wonder? Will your heart skip a beat in suspense, or will it fill with relief and joy? Nothing pleases me more than to play with your head and leave it squirming in the throes of uncertainty. Responsibility? Perhaps. Power? For sure. In my own story I play God. Who gets to live and who has to die-these are things I have the privilege to choose. After it’s all over, will you be forever changed? This I can’t know for certain. As you turn the last page my power over you ends. But as your eyes travel from word to word and each sentence fills your mind, in these very moments you are completely and inextricably mine.
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