You are talking about attempting to make a masterpiece of sorts – in someone’s mind anyhow. I dunno. It’s.. kinda like.. this necessity to get the words down and to, hopefully, get to watch them soar. Somewhere?! Dunno exactly where and maybe I never will, but at this point all of the angles of literary styles and structures have been visited with regards my own scribbles and themes and the kinds of trippy-ass people and personalities I place in the words, etc. Sure there’s messages in there too, how can there not have been. So, yeah, I guess you start to build a brand new ocean of your own personalised literature and continue on believing that the undercurrent is getting stronger and stronger as I do go. Then, eventually, and I do hope somewhat inevitably, WHACK! And everyone and their mother gets wonderfully smashed in the face from the… surf of it all?! Ok, maybe I shouldn’t try and describe it myself 😆 😜 Literature that can maybe, just maybe… make another person feel about it how I do. They, reading it, and pitted singularly against my writing it. Two entirely separate personal perspectives. It’s looking to be authentic and it is certainly looking to be this… inescapable thing. With time? Right now? I really don’t and probably can’t ever get to know it even care how it truly fairs all in all. Striving to go ever further than before – looking to create… as per usual twist of tongue AND pen, unputdownable prose. 🤷‍♂️ Tis all I know so why not go as hard as ever with this thing. If it’s in you and you cannot for the life of you turn it off, then, why bother trying to.