Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Bisexual, Bipolar Bicycle

My blues and my ecstasy pass each other on the neural highways at a blinding speed. Should I hang myself or have another cocktail? Am I pounding this gibberish on a daily basis to nourish an underfed ego or is it a primitive attempt to communicate a message of love?

At least I don't take myself seriously. I don't take anything very seriously, come to think of it. If we could just settle on love as a currency, I'm pretty sure that laughter would be the change.


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