Flowing Goodreads Quotes

In our personal spaces, where there are no eyes to guide our better nature caressing our intentions, we sometimes gnaw in the agonizing realization that, although we charitably took on the rough task with smiling faces, our condescension has produced our worst nightmare. For a new work has triggered our insecure buttons, birthing the fear that the author may flow past our selfish desires, and find their way into the ocean of our faith, leaving us alone and desperate. And so we must, with the extremest prejudice, bomb their potential future by damming all of our congratulations. Rendering Goodreads a stale pond of green algae and used condoms. But do we not know that this same pond we all must drink from? Instead of filing another dead weight upon our self-deprecation, we should condescend to our own little devils, transforming them into loving companions with our guidance, so they may sprout wings in our charity, by praising this new work loudly to all of our friends and acquaintances. Instead of a dam, we can fashion a fountain of ascension, whose poetic mead, we may all get drunk on. Then, one day, those that we have assisted, we may one day find them returning us the favor by building us a fountain. That's my opinion on the subject anyway. This has been an exercise in poetic articulation. Signing off.

When you are in the flow, you float to your destiny like a feather on the Breath of God.

The final page was altered to be more of a note than part of the text. Most of the actual typewritten words had been edited through with a red pencil. There was a large aside written in a flowing hand across the bottom third of the page. The words read, “Final conclusions drawn; When he is young, he asks why do people have to die? A wise older man tells him that life would be far less precious if we didn’t die someday. In his youth, he wants to go on living with the people he loves and never wants to leave them. When he is a sixty-year-old man, he is asked whether he would want to live his life again. He answers that he would prefer not to. He was happy with where his life has taken him. He likes his life and loves the people he is with. He would not want to chance that a second attempt would leave him less happy. When he is eighty-five, he decides he is old and tired and ready to die. He wants to live in order to be with those he loves, as he will miss them when he is gone. He knows they have their own journey to take and has faith that someday they will once again be together.” Beneath the text was a separate comment. In scribbled words it read, possible inscription: “Thank you Lord, for the nameless depression that endlessly haunts the recesses of my mind. Without it, I would be a far less compelling author.