I wonder and sometimes worry. Herein lie those ponderings with perhaps some editing but still in their truer forms. Whisper as well, though in truth, whispers are just that, rustlings in the wind and nothing more. It is kind to not be alone with one's own whispers.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Not just since ill.
.
.
Dreams. Many sorts. Enjoy as you may.
Often troubling. Not always. Not always deeply. Anything goes.
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