See me standing next to this page with sharp, menacing, cutting tools in my hands. They are symbols of what has shaped my life. Not the compassionate molding that is discretely referred to in ‘life stories’.
When I speak of the beauty of nature with a flourish of color and rose-scented phrases, it is my intention to distract you from the machetes and scabbards which I used to carve those words.
Monday, May 17, 2010
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