mug shot

I want to read and turn lost sunsets

into words as beautiful as they.

I’m Carl. Just Carl. I wish I have Hyperthymesia so that I could memorise poems, and chapters of good books I don’t want to let go of. Or maybe a silvertongue that can turn things from a book into real ones.

By the way, call me Carl Marks: maybe because I use it as a verb, or after a great German philosopher, or maybe because it sounds fancy. You decide. Pun intended.

I always leave home, for noble pursuits, sometimes for nonsense. And I always know that there is a need to go back home, not to retrieve any memory, but to sanctify it.

Last update: October 15, 2012 [4:22 p.m.]