What a relief...a blank page and no one to sneer, snarl or roll the eyes...just an imaginative friend listening to all my lies. Lies, lies, lies...they lie about in my mind until I bring them to light. Light fixes them permanently pegged to little pixels that flip back into my face...yes, YOU wrote this @#*!.
But, why? Why do some of us insist upon writing down things while others are happy to let the lies lie? I haven't a clue, I just know that I am one of the two...
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