Forever silently slipped from my hands and the days rolled like the passing of wind-distant and heavy and possibly un-literary. Poetry to me was our feasibility study chart descriptions and I believe that my English has gone extra elusive because of it.
Currently moving heaven and earth just to come up with a decent post that won't drive you guys away and the flurry of love life developments flash before my tired retina. The possibility vs the past is always dramatic to write about but I guess right now, I'd just first focus on just letting my un-manicured hands move across the keyboard. I miss the zeal of writing, the way words metaphorically blossom from my fingers and the way I listen to semi-indie, almost un-famous artists to propel the literature.
And so here I am again. Knocking. And singing in tuneless verses. Are you listening?