There is always a reason whatever that may be. But thoughts are funny for some reasons just do not make sense.
I will use myself as an example. And this is the bubble of my thoughts.
I post. I trash. I post. I trash. Repeat.
Can I anticipate the maddening process of my brain? Yes, most of the time.
I wonder if Hemingway’s bubbling thoughts is similar to me. Did he learn to forgive?
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I love the sun. I want to catch it, if I could, keep it for myself. As I was about to reach out for it, a boy races towards the sun, beckoning to come along to play with him. Soon … Continue reading