How we are hungry


I start out tonight re-reading Dave Eggers again complimented with Debussy Clair de Lune.

God: I own you like I own the caves.

The Ocean: Not a chance. No comparison.

God: I made you. I could tame you.

The Ocean: At one time, maybe. But not now.

God: I will come to you, freeze you, break you.

The Ocean: I will spread myself like wings. I am a billion tiny feathers. You have no idea what's happened to me.

Times like these I can’t help but think of “what ever happened to Martin Lawrence?”