I’m running out of time
to be a poet
or a novelist
or an artist
or an inventor
or a spiritual leader
or a philosopher
or a success.
The clock is ticking.
The years are fleeting.
The inspiration is dissipating.
The creativity is calcifying.
The joy is evaporating.
Failure beckons.
I'm just a gigolo...
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OK. The truth be told, I guess I was a gigolo at one time.
I wasn't trying to be. But a woman I had sex with paid me for my time. It
started cuz I missed w...
You are an artist! And a poet! And a success! You invented air-planes! And you've gone out of your way to help everyone in the family live better lives and we all appreciate and love you. That sounds like a successful life to me!
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