I have noticed whilst perusing your pages that you keep writing to me. Reminding me of things. Do you know me self? I think that you do, just a little. Sometimes you feel whole. Sometimes not. A moment comes and you feel the flesh of a firm, hard, he and sometimes a wisp floats by and catches your eye that is, she.
Who says that one cannot hold a firm, hard whisper or touch a wispy, soft, flesh.
Who decides the rules self?
Is it you, or is it me?
Note from self to you: this is my 100th post. Join me as I party like it's 1999.