In the abyss. Called life.

Writing. For me. It's a diversion. A turning. Within. A way to probe my interior. Of course, I could do that. Without the written word. Without recording my thought. Let the thought come. And go. And maybe disappear. Forever.  A thought seems more tangible. When put in writing. It's as if I'm constructing something. And I can see it. Feel it. Much more so. Than an elusive thought. It's good for me.  For my morale. To build a chain of thoughts.  Often, that's all it is. A chain. Something to hang on to.  In the abyss. Called life. --Jim Broede