I think of purpose. And destiny, if there is such a thing woven within the fabric of our doomed little sentience. I think of whys and if, and in so many ways, that makes me just like most others. Which then demands, in all its barbaric eloquence, the question of why it is I ever…
Author: bruceduluoze
Friday Evening Post: 10.30.20
Why again? Why now? It couldn’t possibly be that there is any substantial word flow about to occur. The arrival of some unannounced clarity, casting answers down upon us all like some memory sequestered summer rain?
Sunday Evening Post: 8.2.20
I feel some returning elasticity to my mind, these days. A continuing conflict, for sure, but a battle that must be thought.
The Veracious Facade 