There have been many ideas swarming about me as of late. Many things I am to later, here
or there, jot down… forget, and start all over again. At the time, as an artists whose eyes
stream open, almost nothing is more important...then that time. That time...Where ideas are realized, songs are distant formations, or a moment is felt as a lightning strike is beautiful to be seen. I don't know now as I didn’t know before, If it all matters...If my thoughts will ever be heard. If they are heard will they sink into another, like a good book to a reader absorbed and in love. It doesn’t matter. I write only for myself...if nothing more then to remember my own passions are still alive and my own thoughts are just that...my own.
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