Thursday, August 14, 2008

The boy asked his mother, “Are all people really wolves?”

“No honey. Some people are crocodiles,” she replied.

His speculations had been validated, and the boy gazed out the window.


He [the wolf] is hunted by everyone. Everyone is against him and he is on his own.

And now the boy could move forward, for his confusions had been cleared up. He slithered off into the mad world with faith, for now he was allowed to become the most majestic creature he could ever want to be. And all anyone has ever seen of the boy was but an ancient tail, for the boy had decided he would outlive everyone.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

light is like water

short story by gabriel garcia marquez

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

my soul is a tiny fetus playing musical chairs alone at night.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

The musical fetus is the most sensitive of all creatures. Embracing him within your palms is much like handling a poached egg. One must be cautious not to break the yolk, for if he does, all life’s magic will pour out from the tiny thing’s mouth, like water from a collapsing damn. And if this ever were the story, man will crumble. He will suspect mortality and sadly, unfetter his faith into a ditch.

But what he will fail to recognize is that inside the ditch, there are crocodiles.