Flu fought mightily but in the end no match for my fathers genes.
I am on the mend and still, still writing.
Sometimes it's like carving text out of a boulder.
I see the thousands on twitter not only writing away but publishing their own shit.
I will be there though I struggle with my standards.
To me the work never seems to be quite there but each re write is better.
I can look at my work now and say"not bad." But needs to be better.
The good thing about that is I'm trying to please me now and not others.
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