There is nothing to write,
so... I write that.
But then, after
having written that,
the words spawn
from the mind's pond.
This is a normal night,
after two days
of expensive mistakes.
So... normal.
& I just had a birthday,
on the anniversary
of my grandmother's
death.
I didn't celebrate it.
.
I was concentrating
in making an
expensive mistake.
So, there is that
to write.
Always something
to write about.
Until there is
no one writing.
& No more birthdays.
21.02.2021
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