I get a canvas to paint the structure of the threads tangled between the branches and among the twigs of a tree that I call MIND.
But..Why do I write again?
I can pull out the little weeds trapped in the slush that got on my mind after walking all day.
So, why do I write again?
I will experience less bumps in my bed that bother me in the darkness of sleep.. there will be less twitching in the mind.

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