The wheels on the bus go round and round

Hello blog. You can’t really say it’s a blank page, the empty spot for the blog post. All the visual guidance and boundaries imposed by the HTML code, I suppose, telling us how and where. It is almost like facing your own mind though. Sculptors say they free what’s inside the block. I suppose anyone who takes pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) attempts to free what’s inside our minds. The immediacy of the internet evens provides a sense of instant connection. You can imagine someone somewhere already reading what you are only about to type. How do you connect without revealing? Or is it all already revealed and acknowledging so allows the connection?

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

Lines I don’t often hear referenced from Robert Frost’s famous poem, but the ones that struck me recently as I heard them at a senior awards ceremony. All we can do is move forward. There isn’t even choice involved. These moments move into new moments and where do the old moments go?

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