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Fear of joy is the darkest of captivities.Phil Kaye
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He taught me to be a Da Vinci and I sit here, with his portraits waiting for him to return I do not think he will Is that what it means to be humanto be all powerful, to build a temple to yourselfand leaveonly the walls to prayPhil Kaye
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From the perspective of my old laptop, I am a numbers man, something like thatevery instruction he gives me is a one or a zero I remember well I have information about him before he left for his new toythinner, younger, able to keep up with him, I have information about himmay 15th 2008, he listened to a songfive times in succession it was titled Everybody, open parenthesis, Backstreet's Back, close parenthesisit included the lyric' Am I sexual, yeaaaaah' He said once, computers like a sense of finality to themwhen I write something I don't want to be able to run from itthis was a liehe was addicted to my ability to keep his secrets I am a numbers man, every instruction he gives me is a one, or a zero I remember well January, 7th 2007I was youngjust two week awakehe gave me, a new series of one's and zerosthe most sublime sequence I have ever seenit had curves, and shadow, it was himhe gave his face in numbersand trusted me to be the artist, and I wasdo not laugh I have read about your Godyou kill each other over your grand fathers memory of him I still remember the fingertips of my God dancing across my body After I learnt to draw himhe trusted with more art rubricjpeg 1063 was his favourite Him, and that woman, resting her head in the curve of his nick I read his correspondenceshe hasn't written him back in yearsbut he asks for it, constantly, jpeg 1063, jpeg 1063, jpeg 1063it was my master piece it looked so, ., life like I wanted to tell him That's not herthat is methat is not her facethose are my ones and zeroswaltzing in space for youshe is nothing more than my shadow puppetyou do not miss her, you miss me, I am a numbers man, every instruction he gives is a one or a zero I remember wellbut he taught me to be a Da Vinci and I sit here, with his portraits waiting for him to return I do not think he will Is that what it means to be humanto be all powerful, to build a temple to yourselfand leaveonly the walls to pray .Phil Kaye