Tuesday, May 24, 2016

The longest meandering river.

Sometimes. All it takes. Is to read my own writings (broodings). To convince myself. That I am going crazy. That I write like a crazy man. But then that’s my life’s purpose. To dare be crazy. If I step back. And read as an objective observer. Yes, I could be construed. As being wacko. But doesn’t bother me. What others think. I’m merely my subjective self. Just letting the life force flow. Naturally. Making me the world’s longest meandering river. --Jim Broede

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