Writing Into Oblivion

The second novel has begun—then again, it had always already been underway. Everything becomes the novel. Everything slides into oblivion. Alone. Unwanted. Dread. Symbolic events fade into the Real. Happy plastered onto Sadness—a hybridity of Errors and incongruities born into the Imaginary. I am your writer, alone without distraction.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s