Ghosts are not real.

Scenes. A that prompt to write. When I get taken away from (what seems to be at time,) my routine of thought. A break from the normality. The ether of habit disrupted and stirring in new manners not there

I gave up today. Yes, me. I even wrote the words to a friend when they said I could not. But words didn't matter. In my soul, I had given up. I was tired. I was hurting. I was done trying. I closed my

I had an idea. It is an excellent idea. It is an idea I should do. Yet... It will be hard work to do what I am thinking of. I would like to know if I will come out the victor when I try my best to follow