Let me just share a little poem I got for $2 at Red Dot Museum;

alive, aren't we all alive
in some way and
dead in another
don't we all fear
the dark in it's many forms do you fear, the dark or
do you walk away from it
as though you
knew
nothing of it
each time you run, run
far
away
each car crash, each
collision of random opportunities
that leaves you
with penultimate
chaos
you call a
tragedy
but somehow just as we
all do, we take heed and
crush it, suppress it, those
times, those
toughest
of times, and turn
them into
dwarves
so we never get to meet them again
what do you think, do we, or
should we
crash our entire past
in places of
dwarves


I just had to give the poet my name and a word and, voalla!

Labels: Now I'm Britney Brownie.