yesterday i made a wet sponge go into work rather than myself. i made the sponge sit on my chair and wait for me to sit on it.
much excitement for a workday. drawn up minutes.
now here we go, said breadroll.
finally, said block of wood.
eventually, said sponge.
a long day in the office had comes to an end. anyhows.
the Book of Sponge and Others.
annabloom.
and that’s the end of it
- kindness of strangers
- some lives are worse than others but the stories are all the same
- anything is good for something in the end
- we don’t like days and are at odds with nights
- inflate or deflate or put on another show
- egg and a query
- come to mention it a melody sounds like the other
- a legend is born
- somewhere would be something else now
- the trail of art

8 December, 2004




