Story time

She walked down from the mountain. Purse full of goji berry heart full of wonder. She had a stride like a Clydesdale and hair like one too. Golden mane glistening in the autumn sun. She was like no one I had ever seen before. Beauty wasn't quite the word you would use to describe her. Her looks were something more. Something pure and enjoyable, just being in her presence felt like a blessing. To hear her voice was to be in the audience of a choir or angels. She was more than a woman, and the fact she was strolling down the path for me made me more than a man. I was a doomed man.
Perfection was never meant to be captured by man. Only the creator has the know how to maintain it. To try and harness the unthinkable force of her was unimaginable, however I knew I was fool enough to try. Who am I exactly? That's a good question. The answer may not be simple. Then again it probably is much easier than I'd like.
- a look inside the mind of D -

Time away

Took some time away to find my voice. Realize my scream has become but a whimper and the force of my pimp hand diminished to but a tap of a Pom Pom. Yes the end of the cool guy D is neigh (near for all you unread motherfuckers).


- a look inside the mind of D -