Were our thoughts birds, then writing would be the outstretched hand that offers them brief refuge. No one owns these transient visitors, though they're often attributed to hosts whom they frequent. Occaisionally, they're witnessed by those nearest to us, shared among wider circles, and even claimed by those farthest away.

Of course, I share some of mine at my own volition, though they never feel entirely mine. Even now, originality is...tricky. But what matters most, I think, is feeling their weight for a moment before they take flight again. Perhaps, then, the greatest gift is to simply enjoy them as they are.

Have I the time, I'll share what I can. Thanks for reading.