Anyone Who Can Not Write

We Walked For Some Time, And Grew To Know Each Other, As Best As We'd Allow. These Are Some Of The High Points. They Lack Continuity. I Don't Apologize. I Merely Pointed It Out, Adding With Some Truth, I Feel, That Most Liaisons Lack Continuity. We Find Ourselves In Odd Places At Various Times, And For A Brief Span We Link Our Lives To Others And Then, Our Time Elapsed, We Move Apart. Through A Haze Of Pain Occasionally, Usually Through A Veil Of Memory That Clings, Then Passes, Sometimes As Though We Have Never Touched.

I Will Use Big Words From Time To Time, The Meanings Of Which I May Only Vaguely Perceive, In Hopes Such Cupidity Will Send You Scampering To Your Dictionary: I Will Call Such Behavior 'public Service'.

With The Internet, The Greatest Disseminator Of Bad Data And Bad Information The Universe Has Ever Known, It's Become Impossible To Trust Any News From Any Source At All, Because It's Filtered Through This Crazy Yenta Gossip Line. It's Impossible To Know Anything.

The Ability To Dream Is All I Have To Give. That Is My Responsibility; That Is My Burden. And Even I Grow Tired.

Uh, Excuse Me, Sir, I, Uh, Don't Known How To Uh, To Uh, Tell You This, But You Were Three Minutes Late. The Schedule Is A Little, Uh, Bit Off." He Grinned Sheepishly. "that's Ridiculous!" Murmured The Ticktockman Behind His Mask. "check Your Watch." And Then He Went Into His Office, Going Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee.