Whatever comes to mind before I alter it with the overpaint of time. Mostly satire, poetry and fiction but occasional unreliable fact, as all facts seems to be today. From deepest Notting Hill. London.
Sunday, 8 October 2017
The bottom line is hope.
Without hope there is nothing; no ambition, no desire, nothing.
Hope is an horizon painted on a sheet of glass and seemingly forever out of reach; something to aim for, a goal...
Until you find yourself forced up against that sheet of glass.