What happens to the old ones? Do they become sand and stone upon the roads?
I've been away in the land of other dreams for a bit. I have now returned.
I took a nap today which features those distorted scenes which normally come only in fever. When I awoke, I knew I wanted to finish the work with which I am struggling.
I knew I wanted to finish it before I took the nap. I just didn't want to toil into the night without the glory of accomplishment, recognition, or acclaim.
Then, the glory isn't why I came to this particular brand of madness.
So, it is off to the land of finishers.
I've got an extra ticket. Come along with me. Wear good boots. The path is filled with rubble.