I am always thinking.  I wonder about writing and hiding.  I am free writing here, but it costs.  Writing takes time. It takes other things too- kishkas, for example. Maybe it's my calling.  Maybe it will be my legacy.

I am about to open the closest book on my desk, My Promised Land and to pick a random sentence.

"We are a ragtag cast in an epic motion picture whose plot we do not understand and cannot grasp." (MPL, page 419)

This man writes well.

I need sleep though I wish I could write all night.

Sleeping
seems like a waste
but it's an elixir
a secret reviving fountain
Why resist?