Art by MeddygonThere is a fine line \ Between genius and madness. \ It is called timing.

(You may have already read this. Originally written in October 2007.)

It made me uncomfortable when she looked at me. She was a stern woman, very strict. It was odd, and insulting, that she should save her softness for gazing on me. Sometimes, I’d look at her and see pity in her eyes. What sympathy did I need from her? The old hag never had children or a successful project. It should be her who receives pity, not me.

Whenever she’d review the work of her interns, she’d chuckle when she got to mine. It hurt to hear her laugh. She found no amusement in the work of anyone else. Why was she singling me out?
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doodlemash of silly

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