It is with a lack of certainty, though not a lack of sincerity that the whiling away of the moment seems complete.
Looking around and out the digital window to the world, storms are brewing. Action and inaction have met and fertilized the eggs of revolution. Never fertilized, they are cracked and whipped into omelettes of absurdity.
Little there is and little there isn't to truth these times not so tough.
Much may be and some that never will still tend to mutter their unpleasantries all the while.
Out of many one and from one to many the words are uttered to ears plugged against the maidens cry.
