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The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
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Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind.
Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer.
He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous.
Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker.
Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger.
He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy. |
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Friday, May 09, 2008
No
No brain, no blood, no oxygen
No sympathies, no pity No worries, no white washed fences No warmth, no tears No mornings with words of phrases No fear, no despair No anxieties of every little sort No doubt, no trouble No tumult in this wordless work Peace, I seek Yet I seek it not you see No hate, no darkness Nothing to touch and feel and weep This road, so far I will fall, and stumble, and trip posted by Quentin |
11:30 AM
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Site design © 2006 Quentin Montejo Productions |
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