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Are you one who has asked me to adjust your baby-genes?
I get up in the morning and I have no idea what I am going to write about. None.
Sometimes my dreams hint, vaguely, what is maybe a direction, but dreams are clear as you see them, vague from the moment you open your eyes and reality seeps in and takes over.
I could go and see what I must write about, what I wrote about yesterday, but I am resistant to have-to’s, so I don’t…
I can see that lately I am not connecting to my readers… But I don’t know what exactly I am saying that has the power for people to say ‘nah, don’t want to read’ add frown, wrinkled nose, sign of disgust. Yours.
So this is where we are… So hell yeah, I don’t want to say what I should say, teach you, give you, lead you to the promised land… Obviously that is not what you want.
But what do you want? Add chuckling… Mine this time.
So I go to my trusty finger-on-the-pulse ‘thermometer’ called Reddit, to look and see.
Dude/dudette post a hand that is very wrinkled after washing the dishes for 20 minutes.
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