Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Narcissus-X Broods on Flawed Inspiration

Thirteenth day. The fifth month, yet not the fifth day in that arbitrary cycle which begins with a day of the moon and ends with a day of the sun.

Thirteen. Thought unlucky. Thought is fleeting, art is not.

Ars longa, vita brevis; e pluribus unum: Caveat emptor; batteries not included.

Oh, for leaden skies and howling wind! A hearse, a hearse, my kingdom for a hearse! So might cry the poet, the artist, the misunderstood genius.

But no: Narcissus-X was surrounded by blue skies and chirping birds! On a 13th that isn't even a Friday!

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