Nearly 75 entries today, then.
Jotted through moods and moons, times good and bad.
Mostly for myself, a shellfish.
To get the words to work, but really, to get them outta the way.
To do one thing at a time.
To peer at whitespace.
What are you after? they ask.
I don't yet know, I say, but we may well find out on the way.
And continue under all circumstances, we must!