before the cool done run out?
up again. i know i just wrote earlier today, but this is the first time i've been up at 1:25am in awhile... picking up where I left off, where I often leave off. I came downstairs to write and yet I found myself spending an easy 2 hours distracted with an online search for escape/with lofty plans and little to show for it. I could have probably written a novel by now. I love this. Love the feeling of letters into words beneath my fingers like I have something valuable to say like what I say may never have been said before but it all has. what makes up a great mind? is it simply the perfect storm of place/time that allows minds that wander to come to fruition? I can't imagine any mind being less than only limited by our own doing and not allowed the breath of life that is a God given to all who accept it. so, my life today: 22 days till Christmas 2019, some near 36 years has passed and I'm sitting between a 3 foot Christmas tree that we scored for free 5.5 years ago at s