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progressive, like a fever
Nov. 8th, 2004 07:42 amWhat a world we live in now, with nifty graphics and icons for everything.
I dream about Meier, more often than one might imagine. It's strange to say you have a relationship with something you created out of thin air, or in my case out of pencil and paper and dice. I feel at times like he's almost my own, a child of my heart rather than of my body. I want so much for Meier, perhaps more than he wants for himself. So I keep writing and winding words together in a very long braid. One day it will be a novel, something to read under the comfort of a blanket.
I dream about Meier, more often than one might imagine. It's strange to say you have a relationship with something you created out of thin air, or in my case out of pencil and paper and dice. I feel at times like he's almost my own, a child of my heart rather than of my body. I want so much for Meier, perhaps more than he wants for himself. So I keep writing and winding words together in a very long braid. One day it will be a novel, something to read under the comfort of a blanket.
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