Well, the government laptops forbid me from uploading this to devart, so i will simply post it in my journal here, and post it when i can. I give you my latest, written on this day, in a momentary inspiration:

A deep image in the shade of my sweet Barcelona. Languidly stylized on a biological canvas of streaking colors and old features.
I imprint this memory on a photogenic tablet folded into triangle papers, hidden in my subconscious.
It snugly fits it's way in between the rusty prayers written in clumsy languages, their beginnings and endings bitterly forgotten in momentary irony.
I came to rest in place of the statuettes adorning the sidewalk columns of humanity. Atoning for the sins of my fathers and mothers, long swept away in the days of contemplation.
My masonry is perfect lines and angles, abstracted from the original print of personality imprints unperfected by purpose and reason.
I observe the passing of emotional trafficking. Loves and Desires and Trusts and Hates and Monotonies piling up behind the lips of hesitations. My drama is real. Recorded through the lives of others.
My dreams peel away to reveal slowly perplexing realities. Asking for life. Salvation.
Drugs. Perversions. Ideals. Morals and Happiness.
Said like the names of old acquaintances, or missives never intended to reach their destinations.

Perhaps you know my youth? say their beleaguered eyes, weary from sleepless nights and drunken forgetfulness. I turn my head from these tragedies, refusing the world's burdens like a cup of bad karma.
I am inconsequential. Noncommittal. My lips are unfaltering. My resolve only slightly cracked and shaken, like a faded tapestry that still shows through the dust and neglect.
Perhaps history shall find me scattered and soaked into the upholstery. Like the wet ash from thousands of countries burned in the echoing caverns of war and tears. Smelling of turpentine and old regrets. When the time comes, I will let the powers that be garner their wages from my pockets, and force the light into their hearts and orifices, kicking and screaming from the beauty that cleanses their hate-stained souls. And I will smile the brightest of smiles.

Oh yes. The brightest.