The Artist At 42, Posted 17 Years Later

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Time is an illusion.  How I wish I could wind the clock back.  (see- That Hellbound Train, Robert Bloch).
  Death is waiting like a cat outside a mouse hole with it's orange eyes focused only on the first hint of movement. 
I am now engaged in building straw castles in whirlwinds, it keeps me busy and harms no one.


I'm just not house broke, not at all.


I have found my niche.

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