Monday, December 19, 2005


Wish I would stop sounding like a goddamn foghorn. Deafening, nasal. Wish I wouldn't splutter out half chewed phrases that begin in a rush of heat and stop in awkwardness.
What I want to be, is thoughtful, considered, with lilting tones carefully weighed and gracefully uttered. What I want to do is sing out sentences in which every word is chosen, inevitable, lstring out into a gurgling lush river.
What I want to be is goddamned Oprah.

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