March 2, 2002
Not everybody gets to be what they dreamed

I found myself giggling a couple of minutes ago… In 2000, I found fascination within the grips of my ink stained fingertips—today its real paint. It’s nothing more than a growing process set inside an avenue of self delivery. I see the discovery of faith—it’s a trust shared between two solid lines that happen to join with expectation, and or belief. The infected mind is offered forgiveness, to help heal what has intruded the veins of impossibility, and its relationships.