12 years ago

I laid there in bed shaking, sweating and dreaming of things that I thought I had long since forgotten. And then, like some fiery sunrise pouring through an open window, the distorted shape of a man drifted into the room and came to rest at my bedside. The deformed shape of a man became that of a mime. His striped shirt twisted with his motions and his striped arms and hands flapped wildly in front of him. He then abruptly paused and looked longingly at me, as if trying to explain that I would soon die and that he was the companion of my deliverance.

“Broken Heart Becomes You“- piece from Dec. 1998

Photobucket

Strange thing it is, that in the end, the very thing that I created will end up being the very thing that killed me.

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