They’re the ‘crazy’ ones, in a sense. The one’s who know that it’s all just a fun kind of messed-up, jovial game of play-pretend. Best enjoy it that way seeing as that’s what all the bloody famous quotes tell us to do anyhow, and see however the chips fall 🍟 I’d be inclined to personally gravitate toward(towards?!) conversations that have little to nothing to do with a person’s job, unless of course they REALLY love it, a person’s utter curiosity for all things happening about them. But, mainly… for me it’d have to be the conversations about absolutely bloody anything-goes. Whatever. Whenever. I’d happily stay awake for ten weeks on-end, chatting about it all- watch and listen to that other person make a difference to my view on things. That person is the one who absolutely informs the scribbles. Really, I don’t actually know entirely how that happens as I’ve never sat down and taken the time to think about it. Probably because I’d just end-up getting too bored too fast anyway. But, yeah, it’s very hard for me to write a poem-piece minus the addition of a character. I’ve tried and it just tends to lend itself far too much toward(towards?! 😆)… preacher-y shite. I’ve no interest in that cos, basically, I know sweet f-all about that kinda stuff. Except perhaps how to stitch and bead certain words together. Maybe that’s my lot. And that particular lot somehow came along and blew my mind. So.. does that mean that I am simultaneously blowing my own mind while it use it to write, in a sense?! Is that not the most self-absorbed thing ever 😆 Naaaah, my particular situation and how the scribbles came about is waaaaay more complex and fundamental to me than that for it to be egotistical. Sure I’m my own harshest critic. Had to be. HAVE to still be. Always will be. I’ve gone waaaaaay to far now to ever even wish to go back with it. Conversations though. 🤔

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