It is all good, I guess, when after all is said and done, that the world will still be doing all of the things that it needs to be doing, as I sit here in my semi darkened room, writing my life away.
Knowing that some of the things that I write about, if not all of the things that I write about, have been written about before, and will be written about again, long after I have been forgotten.
Still, there is some strange notion in the thought, that out there somewhere, there is someone waiting to hear what it is that I have to say, even if it is only my other self.
So it goes. Press on regardless.