Reading Time: < 1 minutes I think when the fates were spinning the threads of my destiny, Some crazy nymphs must have scribbled all across it, Taking it to be a drawing board. Someone must have graded the resulting art work poorly, Because everything in it was as far from perfect as it could be. My destiny was not manufactured …
Reading Time: < 1 minutes Dear Seller of Fates, You read the cards of my life and sold me fate. Of course, magic and unrealism were your more popular wares but your primary product was fate. And dreams. You peddled dreams packaged in hopes and expectations that grew in direct proportion to my clashes with reality. In a world full …
The Mind Bin is a creation of my mind and my mind is a minefield. I try not to step on it and cause explosions because I know people already have.
My mind is an overworked investment banker frantically trying to settle her debts; debts worth millions of moments and tons of heartbeats. I know my mind is a bin that has held too much crap for too long; I need to right-click and press shift and delete. It needs work, perhaps a pest control, or more likely, a gym membership- some exercise, food and maybe just a tiny little piece of the chocolate bar from the love factory. Welcome to The Mind Bin!
