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Canyons - What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life?
The world would split open. - Muriel Rukseyer
"A man is more a man through the things he keeps to himself than through those he says"

But in my case, I need to write to figure out what I think. The question is the audience. I write for myself, but also for you. For why do we think, if not to set us apart and concurrently seek union with others?

I have things I want to say, but I'm not even sure it's to know what answer they'll illicit. I want to say them because words are like water. They flow easily but over the course of time will wear canyons in the landscape. You can't grasp water as it flows, so too with the meaning of the words that need to flow forth. But either they wash over your ears, or they swirl ceaselessly inside my head. One day my head will be filled with gorges - well-worn rivers of thought - unless I loose the dam. Damn thoughts that swirl, with little rafts of emotions tossed about.

What if my words are in that bottle I throw out to sea? Someone may one day retrieve them, and cherish the treasure they've stumbled upon. And I will be free.
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