there are no mirages lately or dreams of the future. i have someone to fill the void for the moment but he doesn't give me what i need deep down inside....and the midget hates him. so, there's no hope for me here in illinois. i wait for the breeze in texas and i hope that i can create again; words and beautiful things. my creative side is beginning to feel like a limb lost long ago, you can feel it but it's not there any more.

i don't want it to end. i need it not to end. i need to know that some part of what i can create will not die. i refuse to believe that i will live a half life just going through the motions of being alive instead of being someone that stays in the back of your mind that refuses to be put away in file, a box, a neat place where you categorize things.

i will never be shakespeare, bukowski, neruda, cummings, hemingway or anyone else's words that echo through my mind and yours as the moments pass. i am not them but i still want to be me. here i am. i will never forget you.