Zealous enough to anger in my attempts at trying. Causing sounds that soothe and satisfied sighing. You see me in my words and it distorts the meaning I find. A true understanding would be found minus me I know in time. See it for what it is, don't be affraid. Muse over the meaning and the sound that it made. Acceptance of ink and the path that it chooses. These simple quilled thoughts of one who muses. Ginsum ~
Don't even read this if you don't want criticism. To me it was just a garbled mess of metaphors, that seem to be begging for understanding, but not offering any insight or wit to make musing worth it.
