What a hotchpotch have you created midst the patterns, when the tangles seek to untangle themselves , you take a needle and sew with a thread right through. Beading and rosaries, buttons and chinks, cartilage from the fish you chewed on, the bones of your hunt, the horns and tails of the devils you tamed, the tooth sabred and savoured, take the sharp trinkets collected in a while now and needle them into your garland of myriad. Experiences that you are seeking, experiences that are fleeting,experiences that have bothered you the least,bring them out of that box, the one that is lidded at the dark corners of your cupboard.The box that has been wisely stored in oblivion and now cut the string that knots them all in the peripheries, for I have found a treasure of olios. The one I seek to add to mine. Open the box, then I'll throw them into fire, or lock them at will, or simply put on display.
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