Prologue
I sometimes wonder if I'll ever write again . I sometimes Revel in swimming in the Oceanic Cesspool I have elsewhere tagged as 'Existence'. It's a Gift .
I luxuriate in the 'Knowing' I have PLENTY about which to Write, yet I dwell in a Vast Emptiness that is remarkably Soothing. It is As If I possess All Knowledge, All Wisdom and the Compassion of All the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in the Three Realms. What need have I for ANYTHING ?
And Yet ~~~~
I sat in Chairy-Chair wondering about which Draft to deliver---I loathe starting with some ridiculous Beginning, shit, why not just "Jump In" mid-Stream and Sprint until the Oxygen `runs-out` ? Who would notice and more importantly,, who would Care ?
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