I Have Absurdly Vivid Dreams.

Comic-con Was Crazy, Good Crazy... Five Minutes After I'm Done, The Cast Of 'twilight' Is Where I Was Sitting.

Wine Is Bottled Poetry, He Thinks.

There Is A Movement Happening, A Quiet One. A Low-profile, Low-resolution Revolution. Comprised Of Writers And Dreamers, Of Guerrilla Artists And Thought-ninjas. Those With Something To Say. They Communicate Through Text Inscribed On True Public Spaces, Rather Than Blogs And Forums. Choosing Fewer Words, Even Without Being Bound By 140 Character Limits. Using Ink Instead Of Pixels. Sending Messages In Living, Breathing Space. Pens Scream Louder Into The Void. Even If Permanent Ink Is Not Aptly Named.

At The Center, Where A Cuckoo Bird Would Live In A More Traditional Timepiece, Is The Juggler. Dressed In Harlequin Style With A Grey Mask, He Juggles Shiny Silver Balls That Correspond To Each Hour. As The Clock Chimes, Another Ball Joins The Rest Until At Midnight He Juggles Twelve Balls In A Complex Pattern. After Midnight The Clock Begins Once More To Fold In Upon Itself. The Face Lightens And The Clouds Return. The Number Of Juggled Balls Decreases Until The Juggler Himself Vanishes. By Noon It Is A Clock Again, And No Longer A Dream.

I Have Never Lied, “ Mr. Barris Counters, Standing As Well. “i Do Not Share What I Am Not At Liberty To Say. I Gave My Word And I Intend To Keep It But I Have Never Lied To You. You Never Even Asked Me, You Assumed I Knew Nothing.