nostalgie,

when i was less grown up i would meddle with little beads and fishline getting a kick of stringng together a bunch of colours and shapes. Turning them into little pieces of adornment for the vain. There necklaces, earrings, crafted pens with your name on it. Those dragonflies made from chinese knots. The craft things a kid experiments with. And down in the neighbourhood was a kiosk that sold all the crafting knick-knacks, and this chance convenience fuelled my interest. I meddled in free plastic, friendship bands, beads, clay, watercolour, furniture painting and the school's sewing class. Then one day in a puff of smoke all this vanished.

The smoke that ate it all
I suspect, is the daily grind, the get a degree and make yourself useful mambo jambo that drones out the creativity. And no decent paperworker holes themselves up to work on wires and beads. That's . And everyone becomes replicas of the same mould and the society becomes monotonuos. The dearth of professional variety.

Cookie-cutters
So the sedated bunny works to churn out more pieces of paper cutting down with a vengance the very origins of what gave us shelter to buy civilisation. Peace, progress and happiness. This great ideal and the promise of a juicy bottomline and fame has created a cookie-cutter to put everyone in its place. And they started building the cookie-cutter.

Help screams the cookie. Save me!
And super muffin comes to the rescue! To save you from the hone and drone of everyday living. Indulge in this muffin world.

Alas, The Muffin Asylum.
Here, no ones a cookie. WE are all muffins, and each muffin is unique. Well, almost. Cos sometimes i like the piece so much, i make one for myself, so there are 2. And it ends. So apart from you the power money-flinging mongel who's bought the piece so its rightly fully yours, the only other person with a similar piece will be the muffinhead. So if u find another in the street in a similar muffin garb. Beware! its a muffin copy. Not the real thing. Scorn. It's a cookie.