Feel Injustice With All Your Senses in Order to Know.
The moment you see something with your own eyes and feel injustice with all your senses, you cross an inner border, you know you can’t go back from there.
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Sung Home: Chapter Eighteen. {fiction}
I felt like Alice walking through the looking glass, or more likely, down a really big rabbit hole. Or into a hobbit home.
I Need to Write Undisturbed by Obligations or Worry.
These moments of solitude are necessary, and indeed are the nourishment my mind requires for peace, for sanity. For all my complaints about the necessity of being engaged in other work to earn a living, I recognize the necessity for that as well. Left alone, too often I stagnate and stink and ...