"There was a scribbler who loved to weave stories. They poured their heart and soul onto the page with a sleepless night just for the passion to happen, but then, the ink ran dry, the dreams faded, and the words stopped flowing."
a scribbler, lost in swevens, searching for the meaning behind the ink.
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SCRIIVEN
Sep 01, 2024 09:42AM
Hello everyone! This is sudden, but please know that I always appreciate you all. This dream of mine would never have happened without my readers who truly see and understand my work. The content of...View all Conversations