Take the Money.

you know you want to

Take the Money.

Why, oh why did I write that.

I understand, it was on the tip of my creative gonads, on the cusp of my existence, so close to my typical line of thought.

The problem is, no one would ever believe that I wrote that.

To publish, I am automatically the ghost-writer, the behind-the-scenes unknown with pen in hand and a smirk on my face. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, have it any other way. Why? Because it isn’t me, that’s why. I couldn’t possibly know those things, could I? I could never feel those emotions, think that way, or actually do any of that.

It just isn’t physically possible.

So here’s to me, the anonymous, the writer, the intransigent hero with a phantasmagorical imagination.

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