the gold flash viewed from one side, the reverie, here is a finger click of multimedia. But it doesn’t change the way we look at the world, he’s not in that league. It speaks to the young, the magic robes, the fairytale embrace. It speaks to the crowd who want to capture their mugs in the foreground, jutting into view, jabbering, chirruping in my ears. There are few times I long to be rich, I don’t want that loneliness, but I’d donate a million to have this room to myself for ten minutes, out of hours, no wish to deprive the masses. But there’s no million in my pockets. You can earn the right through fame or reputation, but I don’t have those either.
