In truth, the words now tend to sprint rather than my having to take any real time with it. I mean, I’d love to one day get to actually slow the pace down a huge notch altogether and to really go at it like as if I were actually sculpting something. Cos, it is quite like what a neighbour and former English teacher said to me, “you seem to be chiselling away at the words all the time like you’re sculpting it.” Something along those lines, anyhow. And he’s damn right, that does indeed appear to me to be pretty precisely how it feels. But a slower pace someday might be lovely too. This five poem-pieces per day, and that being at my slowest output rate since I started with this endeavour, is probably still a little too much. But it’s lovely, really. To get to pop into any book store and browse titles and see what I can come up with regarding my next piece. Basically, it very nearly feels like everything I’ve ever been wishing to chase and capture within me, when it comes to the scribbles in terms of style-of-writing and my particular mental approach. And ever since I was… 🤔 five or six?!💓 Strange and frustrating feeling, though, when you know what’s in you yet you’re actually too damn young to even begin to sit down and figure out what you want to say. Now I’ve got a bloody billion things to say 😆 But the silence is still golden 🧠 In fact, the silence IS paramount. But, yeah, I’ve turned on a tap and it won’t seem to stop pouring 🚿 Or shower, cos that’s all they gots in emoji land