I need my bad work to walk ahead of me, to light the trashed road ahead. I need my bad work to trail close behind me, to catch me in error and to sheath my verbal kit.
That bad work comes along, not a journeyman, but a hidden marker, on the way to good work ahead feels like a waste. I want to use my bad work to protect me until that day that all my work turns out good, or that day I die.
anartism 