Sometimes I just write words on paper when they cross my mind. They may develop into something or may be doomed to lie on the paper as only words.
This week's randomness:
The memory of past lives stay in the soul
Have you ever fished in Brooklyn
Holiday minus Holy
All one pattern in different colors
Human doings not human beings
We never forget the dead. It's the price of living.
The edge is where we fall off.
All those words lonely on my page, random bits of me searched for this...