a shaken cocktail

Early one night, I parked my car at the End and, ultimately, nothing happened. Drinks were drunk, songs were sung, joys and sorrows, hopes held and lost, the night consumed our plodding lives, memory in a thousand shards assembled to suit my moods. Truth is a fiction in a shaken cocktail, reality as we have always known, only arrogance can not realize how much of our world view is manufactured within our overly creative minds.

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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