An epic born through brevity,: An epic born through brevity, the breath of the Coal Man as he heaves himself into the volcano captures fragments of mosaic glass, where traditional burial is not an option: simply stunning.
This is the precise reasons: This is the precise reasons I like to let comments sit and simmer! This way I am disinhibited from the instant gratification of pride and am able to summon something more stoic for my good sir in the wisdom business with me, even if it is just a feeling...
So sarcastic indeed the: So sarcastic indeed the sarcasm seems to wrestle itself. Lost in translation, the penultimate goal of combining creative conscience. Our thoughts only aid in consuming combustion? No, native to nothing. Perhaps the carousel jockey isn't asking for anything; but why does she simply stand there and gawk? I do struggle with dialogue.
Ah, the courtship carnival,: Ah, the courtship carnival, lines for rides, cockroaches congregating - chuckling at a jester grandstanding on his steed. But the thumbs up eludes me. Is it sarcastic, the texting like? Or mudra?
The flesh dividing the thumb and forefinger is said to relieve pain if massaged. Is the carousel jockey assuaging himself by mounting assumptions? He seems to interpret her silence as negativity - her only dialogue derogatory to his antics.
Yet, he beseeches her to play her calliope for him. Perhaps she’s waiting for him to make up his mind as much as he’s waiting for her? Provocative, yet playful piece, though I’d love more dialogue, thumbs up!
Yeah, reading this back the: Yeah, reading this back the very next day, prompted primarily by your delightful comment, my God, was definitely a trip, to say the least.
most grateful: Thank you Ramona, it's perhaps adjacent to that adage 'to be cruel to be kind,' and somehow kindness has become strange and elusive in our day. Most grateful for your thoughts on this.