Whatever comes to mind before I alter it with the overpaint of time. Mostly satire, poetry and fiction but occasional unreliable fact, as all facts seems to be today. From deepest Notting Hill. London.
Tuesday 5 May 2020
The freedom to self imprison.
Looking in from behind bars made from harp strings on the poor souls trapped in the world with no-where to self isolate. Ironic isn't it... The freedom to self imprison has become essential to life.
No comments:
Post a Comment