6 years filled with posts. Some relevant, some rambling. Every single one of them a wrinkle added to the face of an advancing age. Mine, and the world around me.
183 posts and some unpublished drafts that talk, directly or discreetly, about the temporal rhythms tuned on the radio of time.
Of personal joys, mundane observations, terrible heartaches, and unsaid stories.
Stories. All of us have stories to tell. Few of us scribble them down so that we can read them in the future and do some therapeutic time traveling.
Every word you write today probably has the power to move you, satisfy you, leave you thirsty for more, in more than one inexplicable ways.
It's a free investment that will keep adding to memories in your account, which one day will be of more value to you, than probably anything else.
183 posts and some unpublished drafts that talk, directly or discreetly, about the temporal rhythms tuned on the radio of time.
Of personal joys, mundane observations, terrible heartaches, and unsaid stories.
Stories. All of us have stories to tell. Few of us scribble them down so that we can read them in the future and do some therapeutic time traveling.
Every word you write today probably has the power to move you, satisfy you, leave you thirsty for more, in more than one inexplicable ways.
It's a free investment that will keep adding to memories in your account, which one day will be of more value to you, than probably anything else.