I’m having trouble closing thoughts. I have a lot of words built on other words taking up a lot of space but there is no substance. The point of the thoughts escape me. I start with stone but end with air.
I’m tempted to just post the open ended thoughts.
I met that writer in his home once, the home whose sidewalk he was most likely shoveling when he had the fatal heart attack.
Bedrock from Barney rubble
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Here I am in the future, and here you are in my past. Here we are, both of
us, together. Right now. Here. Why though? Is it fate? Destiny? Kismet?
Synch...
2 days ago
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