Pausing in between the cathedral and the institution: I had filled the exact spot of my revelation, My former belief of my brilliance. Recalling my old powder essay for a moment, but it is back there in the scholarly roads of Athens and I am supposed to be in. I take a shifty step outside of my monument Lest I be shot Lest I be taken Mistaken, and on through the institution I would be seen as a troublemaker. Yes, there's nothing I can do Wandering around in this unrealized ceramic. Nothing I churn out these days is quality, they do not tell stories of the monkey's conquest of the Gods they do not have holes to hold tea. I make nickels that are politically correct, it doesn't seem angelic. Righteousness, nobility I close my eyes until passed into the institution. I rotate my old mug to read the full text: "I have been filled with brilliance". Old, old, old. You cannot just turn on the machine. Yet it will be easiest if you do not go mad - It will be easiest to not be driven by your personal visions.
