The bitch.

Semi-social.Sometimes I feel like hanging myself. Breaking promises... too much against proper randiquette.Drink and drive. Feel alive.This is how I am. rocking back and forth, just like a rockinghorse. Rocking horsefly. Rock and/or rolling.If you're still looking for a blanket; sweetie, I'm sorry, I'm no sort of fabric. But if you need a tailor then take your torn shirt, and stumble up my stairs, and mumble your pitiful prayers, and in your tangled night's sleep, our midnight needles go to work; until all comfort and fear flows in one river, down on the shelf by the mirror where you see yourself whole and it makes you shiver.I'm not the best one to say what I'm like or even who I am. It seems like I've lived a lifetime already.At times I pretend to be a poet, or a painter. Art is good for the soul, both in its' creation and its' consumption. All art contains an element of hubris, as all art is an attempt to recreate the natural beauty forged by the gods. The trick is not to look for the beauty that inspired the art, but rather for the beauty of the inspiration of the artist. Art is, in the end, the only way we can hope to peer through the eyes of another and share the joy or pain of what surrounds us. It is the only way that we may see the beauty of one of the greatest creations: The minds of mankind.Stay tuned. Something unexpected will probably happen.