Before writing, there is thinking. There are memories, present and past. Emotions of all sorts, experienced differently by everyone. Some simplistic, some full of flare and drama. OK. I’m exhausted thinking about it already. Why can’t I just keep a simple journal. A daily thought and describe a scenary as close to it as I can. 

I  can’t, I’ve got to much clutter stored in my heart, mind. Too much trouble, if only, if… Well, between living minute to minute. The clutter, fill in the blanks. Everyone is right, everyone is wrong. 

I’ll erase this soon in a few days, I must unclutter first. 

Good night

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