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November 15, 2016
The day's gone so fast, I hardly can find my way back to myself. I'm stalled in a spiraling vortex one calls the workaday drills, and I'm not found; just as well. I don't want to be found. I'd rather be lost in my own self-made labyrinth looking for a way out, just that, out. It's a maze where creativity is a clever rabbit who knows how to evade me, a rabbit that knows the hole that knows the graces of Alice in her Wonderland. Out is a land of evermore, a place of nevermore, where we become poetry.