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Originally posted by JO753:

Forsooth to ponder the road you drive on closely, for you must. Pot holez, rocks, the pie from cow or yet greater beast.

Ponder you must or crash you will! Never to lay vision upon a destination!

Enthralled within this ponder never a moment to raze brow and realize the real. Unaware you be wether great or garbaj.

Still uv all this awareness suspect. Suspicion creeps like a villian or hero : "Doth obstaclez distract or inform?" OR BOTH!

Form to illude to function, verily the wun worthy chois be press onward. Press stop = defeat! Deth! Blasfemy agenst the revered Bard! Yes, onward venture, even unto squandered time regret, that little slice uv life tossed with such frivolous motive irretrievable in the river uv time.

So sit you will, furiously untangling ancient obsolesent fraze upon obtuse hint, hoping to free meaning from its binding tangle. Know thou that rewind will only reset the tangle, shedding more uv your precious minutes foolishly, like fur just az winter sets in. Nay. Press on!

Finding on this journey round haf, that YES! I am following! How? Why? When? A skill developed or least, sufficient rythm found by your inner self that dojjing the poop, skirting the precipice, lumping over the rocks, the activity itself haz imparted meaning, like the needle riding the groov!

Then finally, upon reaching the promised field uv flowerz and cake, suspicion confirmed, yet now unimportant. Thredbare plot revealed to not be the purpose but the excuse for a drive you woud hav never taken.

And I can understand why the dark ajez went on so long. If thats how peeps talked back then, they were worse scatterbrainz than we are now on averaj. Hopefully, liking this movie duznt mean I'v contracted a mind virus called Shakespear!

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