The Author of Time

Time is a luxury few of us can taste. The luxury of wallowing by oneself with thoughts flowing freely and unkempt emotions brewing all sorts of concoctions of both love and hate. Who could have guessed years ago as I sprawled languidly on a bed of self pitying journals, that it would lead me down the path of self-righteous blogs or bulges of blurb.
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You, yes you dear reader are the willing victim of my witterings to wile away the hours of self indulgence as you read my emails, emotional epilogues and tibits of tempting tittle tattle. Who said what, with whom and when, won’t you let me explain or at least explore my own thoughts. And sometimes with such wounding words a waif or stray is stabbed to the wick, to the verge of very suicide or at least to switching off their computers, never to be turned on again. Never mind Facebook’s two-facedness, turn your attention to the true word, the way and the life of Brian. You know who I mean. Our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

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