The following was written four months ago:
"I really should be asleep right now.
The opening gala is tomorrow evening, and the alarm sounds somewhere around five in the morning. Days rush past in blur and I have hardly noticed the change of season. Hell, I have hardly noticed anything at all. This self-imposed cocoon is a self-contained world outside which there is nothing. The focus and determination manifested right now are nothing like ever before. I am at the furthest and highest end of my skill set right now.
I hope it is enough."
Monday, February 4, 2013
Dawn
A quiet Monday morning at the Eleven Productions HQ. Dead Can Dance "Anastasis" pours from the study speakers, complimenting the whiter shade of pale of the winter landscape opening from the corner windows.
The previous project ended last thursday. It was ended by forces and circumstances beyond my reach, beyond my grasp. I saw it coming a mile and a month away. There is hardly anything that surprises me in this world.
The pale sun glares just above the horizon. Things are the way they are supposed to be. I will return to writing shortly.
iTunes just started cranking out Puscifer's "Tiny Monsters".
I smile.
The previous project ended last thursday. It was ended by forces and circumstances beyond my reach, beyond my grasp. I saw it coming a mile and a month away. There is hardly anything that surprises me in this world.
The pale sun glares just above the horizon. Things are the way they are supposed to be. I will return to writing shortly.
iTunes just started cranking out Puscifer's "Tiny Monsters".
I smile.
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