I typed in full sentences. It was a healthy exercise. The mind expands and encompasses goodness and light. To bring our "stories" closer, I tell you now, my name was Gregory Wredberg....
He grew up in a bubble of gunk. He may have hoped to be ever sensical. All around, over a landscape of beefs, hogs, sticky trees, dry mud minds, sensitive souls languished at dawns and sunsets, incomprehensible; compromise blossomed. 🌸
Gregory was a lone soldier sailor, meaning he could only live fighting the ocean.
In the hardest times, he sweated in the perceptions of other human people. The limestone walls of public schools and civil authorities hunted all their embarrassments. He was alone indefinitely with his family and passersby in life. A diminishing percentage were interesting at all, like a book, a singular thought. Television was the thing to do.
Impossible to say
Intermission
The End
After CBS Sunday Morning, I love John Fetterman. He reminds me of John Lurie.
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