The Muse no longer lives in Bielefeld. She moved out of another's body and returned to mine. The Muse lives in Herford with the writer, the sculptor, the photographer, the nature lover. The Muse lives in me and I am the Muse.
Which is just my way of saying, I don't need external inspiration, although it's nice to have. Being completely alone with the exception of waiters and waitresses and cafes full of strangers, I've remembered where the fantasy lies.
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