The sun sits there… Always teasing me…. Always comfortably hid behind his veil… No longer do the flowers reach for the sun… They know they’ve been abandoned… When will I be smart enough to make that same realization….
Diary of a Charlatan
I offer no apoligies for what you see, read or hear on this blog.
I do not pretend myself a poet or storyteller, for it is not I who writes these words. I am merely but a vessel. In the deepest despair and only in the sweet embrace of vice, does The Charlatan dare appear. Only then does he ever put his pen to paper, ever more eloquently than I ever could, to expunge our demons through his prose.
I do not pretend myself a poet or storyteller, for it is not I who writes these words. I am merely but a vessel. In the deepest despair and only in the sweet embrace of vice, does The Charlatan dare appear. Only then does he ever put his pen to paper, ever more eloquently than I ever could, to expunge our demons through his prose.
Nov 29
