Smell like a baby forever.

by Regis Boff

I have always been lured by deep sea fishing from a boat. Throwing a line in and pulling something up from the deep blackness. I have figured out that my mind works this way as well, I run through my mundane waking spaces in search of an originality, day in and day out, until I hook something, haul it out, and put it on a wallpaper of my computer. I came to understand that the words and I were briefly different afterwards , in that short period when the afterbirth of my mind was still shimmering on them. The issue of originality is that we are a species of time and art is a fish pulled from an ocean that can only last so long and we are disappointed by this, like a mother who is disappointed that her child can’t smell like a baby forever.