i haven't written on the web since i first heard about this. i thought it couldn't be any worse, not sure what to do, lamenting through an oil spill, yet finding more pleasure in the ways of the lightning bugs and illuminated communication
i've taken my words to the hand-written form. but i miss this instant sharing , a certain sharpening and interconnectivity.
far too many occurences have passed since mother's day to write them all now. the water is still cold in the sea best for the run and jump.
sinking my hands deep into the garden
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