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Monday 30 September 2013

Cacophonic Cancer.

I find writing difficult.

Not because I can't think of anything to write, but because of the opposite.

I have a million and one ideas buzzing through my brain, and I don't know which one to choose.

Where to start.

How to even get them to slow down enough to see one.

I've got a million posts I could write.

A thousand books.

Ten thousand songs.

A hundred plays.

A dozen dozen musicals.

A few hundred poems.

And I'd still have so much left, constantly churning, constantly growing and evolving.

Like a cacophonic cancer.

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