Incoherent sense of improvement.

Sweet incense of all of my garbage thnking. Enamored the love of my writing, have sweet joys of a pencil, . . from and to a pen guided by my own sheer raw non-sense of fruitful mind. In which babbling, gibberish and yes shit predictive setting of devices ; permeated all of my works. IContinue reading “Incoherent sense of improvement.”