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Another few minutes, or Why I keep doing this

There’s plenty of reasons to quit messing around with this writing dream I have, and several of them actually make very good sense, but even a few minutes a day playing with words gives me a grounding and a satisfaction that’s hard to properly express. Even when the minutes are barely a handful and the words are frustrating and slow to come and often wrong.

Even then, it’s worth it.

Granted, I don’t always recognize this, but I usually do, and even if I don’t, it’s still true.

For all the greatness that this is, though, without my wife, none of it would be possible. Period.

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