Validated (and I Feel Groovy)

Sub-atomic particles. Can you imagine?
Imagine.
I feel quite tenacious, as I hang from the end of a root, that protrudes from the side of the cliff. Metaphorically, of course.
"Of course, of course," he mumbled.
His crow was underdone, but he was attempting to wash it down with a cheap white Zinfandel.
Laughing children ringed the periphery. He couldn't spell on this day. His mind was unruly.
It was those tall elves. He couldn't lose the image. And yet, the image was a shadow image.
Sub-atomic.

I will write the book of love.
I will travel to the desert and paint the bones of Georgia O'Keeffe.
I attempted to shake Dali's hand , once, in a psychic dream. Instead, I shook his mustache. He bowed and said something like "M'lady," except in Spanish. Or, at least, I think that's what he said...

Desultory? You bet!
RED/BLACK/WHITE.
These are the colors of being. These are the primary colors. These separate the strong and validated from the weak and cancerous.

He feels half-baked.
He has the shakes.
"Think fast," she said - and his thoughts came so furiously that he was light years away and much too late.
Life is full of such irony. I see it every morning in the mirror. It's forever associated with Moby Dick. Don't ask me why. I could tell you, but don't ask.
Christopher Thomas.
Sub-atomic particles.
Imagine.