blather
photophobe_knows_his_face_now
Photophobe I'd recognise me, and would be indifferent. Any faith has died. It always does. I've only got myself to go on now. Art is not a kind god. But I worship away anyway, regardless. I don't have a choice. But I'll do it in secret now.

Rock to pop
Painting to design.
Glint to rationalisation.
STAR to SHIT.

Desperation is to heavy a burden. I need a break from it - I can't hold it all by myself.

So I see my name, but its not emblazoned across my eyes. Its scrawled on a srap of paper, as a side note.
021116