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Old 05-13-2018, 04:55 AM
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fleamailman (Online)
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Originally Posted by Nick Pierce View Post
And thus, with pen, we plod, stumble, crawl and writhe across the page.
"...exactly, it's never "what we write" really is it, but whether we choose to "we keep writing" that separates those on their journey to self here from those who just let their days pass around them still..." ventured the goblin who hated calling it a journey to death though, far too morbid he felt, repeating "...either way then, we go to our deaths, yet we could change all that to a journey to self before that point, guess that's why they call it one's journal there, simple in effect one becomes one's own journalists like this, yet me I feel more like a painter though, a painter of posts choosing my own way to paint things...", but that was just the goblin for you where today too it rained outside the bistro, yet the goblin was happier to wonder where did summer go to than worry about what to do when summer's heat finally came, smiling "...to post is to choose to differ really, we are few amongst the many amongst the millions who don't post at all, by that I wonder if there's something wrong with us really..."


Last edited by fleamailman; 05-14-2018 at 12:15 AM..
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