You’re creating something pretty altogether rather unique and that’s the bottom-line. The top-line, too. So to speak. You’re taking the imagination to another place altogether of rhythmic literature. That’s a given and at any time. You’re also trying to land the poetry book, maybe, of a lifetime. A given.. again. You’re holding forth with your imagination all-in, your mind wired to the different kinds of interpretations for things that occur around you. Another given. You are… asking readers to take the time to trust in your storyline, your style, your rhythm of rhyme, your… out-and-out aim with this thing you like to refer to as scribbles. You’re not all that bothered, really, as to how many people might take to it with time. That’s not your choice, your call, even. You are letting your personality run wild in training itself to scribble on automatic. Autopilot. Whichever, really. It’s the scribbles. Was always the scribbles. From day one to day… whenever 🤷‍♂️ You’re attempting to blow the whole thing wide-open. The scope of art, literature, or whatever people might want to call it. That’s yours. All of it. And you’re certainly unmatched when it comes to your style. That’s yet another given. Your style, however? It’s only just begun… .