1.09.2003

I have always wanted to live in a little house in the middle of a vast wood. Grovel for my survival by daylight and read by the firelight at night. Wear hard, woven wool on my back, pants made of birch bark, eat my gruel out of a wooden bowl with a horn spoon... and generally act like a grouch when faced by other members of mankind. I want to be known as a grumbling rustic. You know what I mean, that crazy old man who lives in the forest, that never speaks to anyone and only comes into town when he wants to be bothered by the silliness of it all. It would beat playing at being apathetic. I mean, if you can't or won't or don't want to contend with it, wouldn't it be more fun to throw it all back in it's own face now and then, rather than pretend you don't care at all? I feel like I'm living in safe mode most of the time or that I'm wrapped in cotton.
I think I need an adventure. Any suggestions or offers? Let me know:
Ravensdread@aol.com
Nighty night.

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