Mutterings of a Middle-Aged Dreamer



Use your words, my dear sweet soul, they are inside of you... So find them. Write, you silly girl, write so hard the world will never forget you.

But does it matter if the world remembers you? 

Age begins to press its hands upon your chest and the need to be remembered seems to increase with the pressure. 

Stop.

That's not a line of thought you're interested in pursuing. 

Live in the now.

Does it matter if the world remembers you if your neighbor is going hungry? 

Perhaps age is merely pushing you out the door. 

Go. Live in the now. 

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