Penning down the extravaganza of thoughts that waltz in my head each day. Some dead, some alive, some barely breathing, but each one of them complete in it's isolation Some glooming, some blooming, some reflective and true, Some shrouded in shadows, dipped in the terrors of the night and cynical too. Each coming from a place deeper than the heart and the physical body, each coming from a place called home. "The only thing we ever had Is what we give away" ~Louis Ginsberg
16 parts