He stepped on a plane, farewell. Once removed from this plane. Click. It is done, yet only just beginning. A trace of faith kindles. A flame consumes all doubt. Truth skirts an awakening spirit. She exhales her idols to partake of this truth. Direction calls to her faintly. Can she see it? Will she see it?
-Originally written January 15th, 2015
Ivory Calla 
I’m no expert on either one, but some of these strike me as free writing. Some almost as Buddhist koans, and some as almost a combination of both.
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Yep, free writing is about the only writing I do anymore it seems.
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Keep at it. Who knows where it might lead.
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I’ve always dabbled in it, but have never been sure of what to do with it.
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Maybe see where it takes you. Or pick a subject, such as carbuncles, and write everything that comes to mind in any order, in complete sentences and thoughts.
Then later select another subject and do that.
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