Ha! Would that it were true. How comforting it might be for some.
Please, whenever I find myself, let me then be laid in the pine box beneath the cool, sweet earth on the top of Piney Mountain. No, friends, I'm on a different journey. There are no selves in the land I travel in, only fragmented remains of unremembered dreams.
I'm leaving to take the waters this morning, but will write about selfhood when I return. Stay tuned....
1 comment:
each of us are like the written word,some are grocery lists,some are pamphlets others are novels,some novels have sequels.you my sweety,are the latter.as an avid reader,i much enjoy the latter!
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