I’m not sure what to wright or if what I wrote is right, but it think the words show. the ink still flows, throughout my extremity to the left. and somehow I doubt I’ll stop till death. I have more to say than I can with breath. I look forward to the end of the day so I can put it to test. I swear I’ll break if I don’t just get it out. I need to dump the well now. I cannot deal with a drought.