When pen and paper meet like old friends words will fly.
Spirits combine and recombine into new & wondrous things. These phantoms of old are but figment of their dreary selves.
Syntax & Grammar, punctuation &. . . Pause.
Spelling & Spacing.
Let not thy thoughts be construed as misjudged misanthropy. For the under current of futures will be written anew or never written at all, but cast upon the ear less trees ready for action upon them, but never acting upon the world in acoustic clarity.
The muffling cries of those futures collapsing the past howls of new. Fear not for those possibilities as the probability waves goodbye. You are never alone & have nothing to worry about. I am but as all. we experience, expectorate & ejaculate all actions & in-actions that forebear us.
So be still & listen to the muffled screams of the trees. Act upon the world as stillness; LOVE.