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And so I rest. Day has come and gone, and the moonflowers have bloomed hours ago. Crickets sing outside my door, and the night animals make their prowly way down the roads and avenues in the uncaved world beyond my window.
My world, so very similar, and yet so very different from yours, spins on in it's sad clown painted way, twirling, twirling, dancing and dipping in and out of the multitude of possibilities and plausabilities, drinking from the infinite ever single second, and singing songs that are both long forgotten and never known.
And so I rest, to dive into even more undiscovered lands, to visit the lands that we share on levels beyond; where we visit, cautiously probing the thoughts unbound by the illusions of the world we know to be true.
The stories, my children, are writing themselves again, whispering into my ears and my heart, asking for their turn in the queue, asking to be told and written, to find themselves flung out the window of my home on the third floor, to fly, fly, fly till they find homes in the minds and hearts of those that read and listen.
And so, Sweetest dreams, Dearest ones. StoryTeller's Vacation is nearly over.
My world, so very similar, and yet so very different from yours, spins on in it's sad clown painted way, twirling, twirling, dancing and dipping in and out of the multitude of possibilities and plausabilities, drinking from the infinite ever single second, and singing songs that are both long forgotten and never known.
And so I rest, to dive into even more undiscovered lands, to visit the lands that we share on levels beyond; where we visit, cautiously probing the thoughts unbound by the illusions of the world we know to be true.
The stories, my children, are writing themselves again, whispering into my ears and my heart, asking for their turn in the queue, asking to be told and written, to find themselves flung out the window of my home on the third floor, to fly, fly, fly till they find homes in the minds and hearts of those that read and listen.
And so, Sweetest dreams, Dearest ones. StoryTeller's Vacation is nearly over.
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This is just so beautiful and flowing, lovely swirls of words.
^___^ the moon flowers on my porch are closing up in preperation for the dawn.
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I now have OUR story out on the world wide web for all to see.
Moonflowers are very neat, but a pain to cultivate around.
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You have a site up! I'll have to sit and read things I may have missed or just loved enough to read again.
Much love my friend.
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Yep, I gots a site. I don't have all the stories I've written there.. I may not, since some are very short.. but I might just because they are Part of the legend. Some have never been seen by civilized humans!
Love to you back, m'ladye
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*blows you a kiss*
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You know, I am going to White Hart this weekend. We SO need to find time to get you there to see that place...
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So we'll plan it for another time....but it's gonna happen. *grin* I'm stubborn, remember?
*hug*
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Am so blissfully excited. :D
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Love you! Yes, even during vacation. *grin*