When handed a laptop by my cousin in 2013 with the simple command to go write, I searched for a camp to pitch my tent and stumbled across the picket line of YWS.
But rather than being met with blade, cold shoulder, or pretending I wasnt standing in their midst, the good people took my to their campfire and gave me things to eat: sandwiches, s'mores, and the occasional friendly word of advice.
I've been writing ever since, pressing my thoughts and hopes and dreams into every leaf we impress into the mud as we travel along, hoping that a stranger along the way will find beauty in the way it stands resolute amid the muck.
I've turned green as the heather and fern, welling up with life that the good forest provides, soaking in as muxh as I can, and when I die, taking it back to the earth to grow up the next generation of travelers.
Creation is my creed, and brotherhood my bond.
I am Messenger.
But rather than being met with blade, cold shoulder, or pretending I wasnt standing in their midst, the good people took my to their campfire and gave me things to eat: sandwiches, s'mores, and the occasional friendly word of advice.
I've been writing ever since, pressing my thoughts and hopes and dreams into every leaf we impress into the mud as we travel along, hoping that a stranger along the way will find beauty in the way it stands resolute amid the muck.
I've turned green as the heather and fern, welling up with life that the good forest provides, soaking in as muxh as I can, and when I die, taking it back to the earth to grow up the next generation of travelers.
Creation is my creed, and brotherhood my bond.
I am Messenger.