Here's a question. Why is it that when one is away from a desk/computer/writing pad/whatever, one thinks of brilliant and witty things to write about but seat yourself within range of writing instruments and the mind goes completely and comprehensively blank. I am sure that many a great novel has been written mentally while sitting behind the wheel stuck in a traffic jam. You get very excited about this great idea which the world will hail as a modern classic and posterity will cherish as an ancient classic. But get home and the whole idea evaporates like mist in the morning sun.
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Musings on Life and The Universe
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