June 14, 2004
Think. Read. Think. Or rather think with my fingertips, and run them along the keyboard and laugh about what comes to mind. Censor at will, or else who knows what thoughts run amok about this and that and the other. Can't walk past a bookstore, can't drive past a bookstore, without stopping. Old books with musty yellow pages that have been hidden in someone's garage come out for air, all those great stories of grand people doing grand things and of displaced farmers and pirates and forbidden things. Is anything now forbidden, or was it ever? Do pirates still exist?