THE WRITER’S TALE.


A mind flounders in the heat, violently crashing from thought to thought. Who, what, where, when, which, why? What again?

Clueless and mysterious, wandering and (true to the cliche) not lost; drenching itself in the adventure of pseudo-freedom. Belief that it is free to think, choose ideology as it may please and subscribe to no man’s whims and calls. Soaking what it can from the fluidity of the human condition while embracing emotion and casting it aside in equal measure.

Such is the tale of the adventorous, of the brave, of the fortuitous, of the hungry. Such is the tale of me.

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