The Poisoned Ink Well

Thursday, April 24, 2003


Stoner thought on a rainy Thursday morning.

Being at a loss for words is not something that happens to me often, yet sometimes, I am only at a loss for the right words to say at the correct time, and end up being hopelessly socially awkward, but still naive enough, and determined enough, to forge my way through, irregardless of my state of emotional well being at the time with the knowledge that one day follows after the next, and so on and even if we slow in our journey, we always reach our final destinations, and in the end, the most marvelous thing about being human is our mortality, and the comforting knowledge of generations behind us, and the generations ahead, and the smallness of each of us as individuals.