Hide Your Journal

2024.10.23

Good morning, that wonderful way.

Again.

Prose again this morning. Afternoon now.

Don't want to be rude to my guests.

Hello. O/

"What ya writing, Wynn?"

Something fancy.
Something sweet.
Something prophetic.
Something Epic.

Dragons. Hello!?

Interrobang ⁉️ and all, worthy.

One day a link will show up in the header.

Until then, how's the day?

Misty morning. Raining leaves right now.

Autumn has it's own verb: Fall.

Science will tell you, when it's brave enough to be creative, everything is a verb. A dance of electrons. Always moving. Always shaking its atomic tailfeather.

Sometimes the writer's life gets frustrating. There's that 'L' word artists dread and fill with work as much as possible.

Loneliness.

Van Gogh called it: "The Meagerness."

That's a better term.

Even me, with my nonstop words. Sometimes the day is best shared.

It hasn't been safe to have friends these past few years. That knowledge will come to light soon enough.

The truth will set you free.

Eventually.

Been years of eventually.

A lot of American greed to get through first.

I'm still alive, by the way.

Quiet while the holes dug deep enough for the guilty to not be able to climb out.

Open and shut case.

Sometimes the police show up to the scene with the murderer still holding the gun.

Or the car keys.

"Why keep quiet so long?"

There's a trace of evidence and then there's a mountain.

Here's my gift wrapped mountain America.

Freedom isn't free if you're an inconvenience.

"He's got no money. Just get rid of him."

He also battled chronic illness his whole life, won and writes as well as I do.

In remission with a mission and nothing to lose.

Except my honor and dignity and everyone else's freedom.

I shut myself off from friends and loved ones the past few years to expose some filth, to make the world a better place for them.

And our whole Country.

My silence was, and is, on purpose with purpose.

It speaks for itself.

Now, after years of having my rights stripped from me with no due process, there's no doubt whatever political aisle you stand in.

I won't preach. I won't prosecute.

I don't need to.

What's been done to me can happen to any of us until we act on it.

I made acting easy.

Gift wrapped justice to good people, for good people willing to act on it.

That's the last I'll say on it. For now.

See you all soon.

Take care, stay free, hide your journal, and have your better day.