i reflect my own madness. a fun house of mirrors gesturing topically, amusing it seems. a maze of reflection to escape. madness swirls the tube toward the slide of grand exit. afterwards it is the bright light and cloud of the thoroughfare, of cotton candy and allowance spent. thinking, cast off for conventional comforts.
...except for me, standing there in the niche of the uneven rooms of confusion. listening to the rumble of the unbalanced stairs and rolling floors. their action is pleasing to me. their presence soothing.
i am not spun whitening bolt; it is reality- spun about the fold.
ganas
- gan
- i am an interpreter and indication of the gatherings in my life. my collection of influences, and experiences, and wanderings, and figurings. i am a current of reflection yearning for connection. i am compelled and commanded to do so by my own accordion. playing it's off-tunes and rhythmic swoons i am dancing to the passing moment. all at once and individually rapt. i am continual appreciation of the process and movement of life. i am most interested in the details of culture and life-byproducts, the wear and tear of existence. human-fantastic is a great show. i am highly enamoured with seeing through things or of hidden sources of movement or sound. knowing you know is where i'm most ticklish.
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