When life gets busy, I just start to feel like writing is work and I never want to have to force words that won't come. Much like my reading "habit", if it doesn't flow out of me as if I were talking then it doesn't read the way I want it to. So many good things are happening with my Link group and COTM, and my private life that I am busy living it and not making time to write about it; I really do want to go back and read these entries later on down the road and remember the joy of this memory or that one. My life is practically perfect now, and the rest I am working towards making the good; great. I have no complaints, zero. I realize this doesn't make for interesting reading, no angst to fuel the pen so to speak, but hey it's a small price to pay for the peace and contentment I have found within.
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