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Ceci n'est pas un banana

rampant wanton nymph

20 April
I was born a poor Indonesian child in Papua, where I was adopted by wealthy Austrian scuba divers. They raised me in the Druid faith, and sent me to a secluded boarding school in southern France. At 14, both of my adopted parents were killed by pirates, and I was sent to live with relatives I had never met in Puerto Rico, where my estrangement from everything I knew found solace in art and music. I was sent to a conservatory in rural Ohio to study under the last American masters, and began writing poetry. After getting into a knife fight with a professor, I lost all hopes of becoming a professional performer as half of my face was horribly disfigured, so I ran away from school to spend several years traipsing across Tibet and Nepal. After attaining premature enlightnement and fogetting the secrets of the cosmos, I returned to the United States and built a home on the roof of a high rise on the north side of Chicago, where I currently live.

In other words, I'm probably very much like you.

My poetry can be found on the journal fantasticbanana, where I post an average of 1.3 poems a day, many haiku. Excerpts from my cookbook can be found at vunderfood.

my pet!
my pet!
adult themed ice cream, aesthetics, art related starvation, drinking heavily while sweltering, etymology, experimental global fusion cuisine, guppy lake, harry potter on tape, huge angular noses, incredibly bad pornography, kite flying at beaches, meditating through thunderstorms, men bearing ice cream, men with pleasant scents, names like pär lagerkvist, obsession with bananas, potatoes, productive anarchy, reading feverishly, recommending good books, rocky horror picture show, showing off my tattoos, wabi, waving merrily at strangers, witty and intelligent conversation, working philosophers