2018—HEAD ON COLLISION Part 4e

In case you wonder why the next portion of 1978—HEAD ON COLLISION has not yet been published, I’ll reply:  The writer, who resides inside my mind has developed a rule of thumb based in this belief:  Every sentence, which makes up a complex train of thought must be stated so clearly as to make sense to writer and reader alike, and if, over night, I believe that’s not yet the case then consequently the editor within me will patiently continue to edit or enhance a post until unnecessary clutter has been swept out of each sentence so as to ease the retention of any reader who hopes to comprehend and absorb strings of insight encountered within a current post before we feel need to ‘tackle’ whatever mentally challenging complexities are bound to pop up next.

Basically, this rule of thumb follows the same principle of logic employed when elementary mathematics grows ever more advanced—proofread so as to correct mistakes before moving on toward the next mind-boggling step.  (As an aside, that same principle of logical thought processing holds true of training young minds to clearly embrace each step that  conceptualizes The Cooperation Game, as well.  In the interest of maximizing clarity, the parent remembers to restrain any show of impatience in hopes of ‘training’ the trainee to do the same.)

As my writing style is famous for run-on sentences, the editor inside my brain feels compelled to sweep away clutter before serving up the next bite-sized morsel of food for thought.  And now, when I’m absent for several days, you’ll have a clearer idea of how my writing time has been spent.

If you'd like to ask why I do not expend time rephrasing sentences, which tend to run on and on, I'll offer up this insight, concerning my singular writing style:  If I chose to repair run-on sentences, you'd not see a new post appear for weeks at a time.

Wonder
Ask
Intuition
Insight
Process
Absorb
Know
Determination
Grow
Inner strengths
Develop
Self aware
Clarity
Change
Wonder (anew)

Somehow, that list of words just popped out of my mind and onto my screen, one at a time.  If you wonder why, I’ll answer that riddle with tongue in cheek:  Always leave’em asking for more.  (Those of you who are not new to my blog may have a better idea as to why those words, listed in that specific order, chose to appear as though all on their own.)

If you wonder when the story line of 1978—HEAD ON COLLISION will continue, I'd reply:  Soon, my friends, soon.

If you ask how I know that to be true, I'd reply:
My eagerness to absorb insights, which are sure to pop out of the intuitive portion of my think tank as that true tale moves forward, is encouraging my story teller to throw the gear shift of her time machine in reverse so as to high tail it back to yesteryear in haste —and as it's my heartfelt goal to know myself more deeply, tomorrow, than is true, today, I have a feeling that the intuitive portion of my mind is about to turn the story teller loose.

As to now, my dear friend, Ellie, just walked into my house, holding up a broken a finger, so placing my blog aside, I've decided to take her to lunch after stopping to ring my neighbor's chimes for this reason:  This particular friend has been battling several bouts of cancer, over these past few years, and as I know of her love of confections baked at Nothing Bundt Cakes, I’m about to drop one off at her front door.  Originally, Will and I’d looked forward to partaking in that yummy dessert after enjoying the spaghetti dinner that we’d planned to bring to my friend and her husband; however, her blood count has suddenly dropped so low as to limit the number of people with whom she’s coming in contact, so, hopefully, today's special delivery, conveying our love, will brighten her day.

"We can do no great things, only small things with great love."—Mother Teresa