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A Troubled Mind? Nope: I Debated Publishing, but Why Not?
(No expectations from this title, I suppose! #630)
Contemplations. Realizations. Journey. Nature beings. Angels. My own Heart. Motivation. Determination. Nouns. Verbs. Things. Actions. Thoughts. Write. Communicate. Be. Be. Simply Be.
Lest anyone think I took time making up the list above, I did not. I have often, in books I have written, poetry I have painted, and articles I have submitted, tailored my work with readers, receivers, thinkers, consumers in mind. Call them what I will.
What none have ever really seen are the — I have trouble here because I am aware someone may be reading this, so I will forget you for now and share me, me the one whose mind works in a mode some call ADD, others call undisciplined, and some don’t care enough to call anything — what none have ever really seen are the millions of words I have written every single day for years now. Millions.
And they are not simply words. They are Me. Me. Michael Foster DePung. Awakened to purpose. Filled with visions. Prone to dreams. Weighted with depression. Inspired to write. The words flow easily, fully…
