All pent up!

All pent up!

I really should be reading more. I have this feeling of insatiability and unless I grab each and every reading opportunity that comes my way, I’ll miss that important pulse. Of course, my groaning bookshelf and my heart know otherwise. I have enough to just sit back and absorb it all. But somehow it seems to me that every minute, every second is fleeting by, every grain of sand is shifting down and my time will be up. I think I can do with an uninhabited island and live there for a couple of years, only reading…right about NOW. And I want to write.

I love to suck the honey out of every precious experience. I still have a voracious appetite for stories, and to me an experience is just that. It doesn’t matter what happened, I will remember it differently, several twilights later. I want to do something that involves, engages, and completely instigates every one of my faculties. I can’t understand or explain this urgency. All this pent-up ‘get-up and go’ is knotted in my veins and tires me beyond exhaustion.

Hmmm.

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