in the garden of the mind...

...where thistles threaten and daisies dance

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Can a writer stop writing?

Too lazy?
Too boring?
Too dry for words the sounds nice, sad, sorry; wishing I had that perfect phrase to make the world a different place.
Alas, it's me and the dictionary and we're creating arbitrary alphabetical order, not beauty. Not meaning. Just words without a heart to hold them in place.

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