Visual runs

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I make and make and make everyday. Or, I think about making all the time.

I horde all the work I make in files by my desk.

All work I made while I was studying for my MA is stored up in my attic.

I am drownimg in a sea of stuff that comes out but actually doesnt move much past my front door.
It all somehow floats out into the web where it bumps along, hashtaged to death whilst I check for likes shares and comments like a junkie who is looking for her next fix.
I dont want to move from my desk. I dont want to move, I want to be cocooned.

I will slowly suffocate under the tumble down files of ink and pages and ideas and someday all of this will be waded through and will be dumped or sent off to charity shops.

I will still make and share. And drink coffee and after six I will drink wine.

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