My imaginary friend, Bill Hitler (no relation), always told me, "If you can't think of anything to say, make something up." I cannot help but feel that, being imaginary, he was only trying to bolster his own position. One could argue that he had a conflict of interest. One would be wrong, however, since there is no Bill Hitler (no relation). I made him up. Why? Because I had nothing to say, that's why. When I can't think of anything to say I make something up. Why? I already told you why.
That first paragraph has many logical and existential issues. Rather than address them, let's just move on.
This paragraph is a poem. Not a haiku, since I lost count long ago. It's what one might call a "free-form" poem or a "prose" poem or a "bad" poem. It doesn't rhyme, not intentionally anyway. Sometimes, when you aren't sure how to say what's on your mind, you should write a poem. Just start typing and see what comes out. Don't worry about capitalization or punctuation. Just flow. Let it go. Don't worry about truth or structure or reason. Just, you know, talk. Please use strict iambic pentameter or dactylic hexameter or atmospheric barometer, though. Don't be a cretin.
I'm going to stop now.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
