I’d be lying if I told you I write for one hundred percent clarity. I try to, more and more these days. I figure, if I cannot strive for complete honesty in my writing, where can I do so? I have thoughts. I want to make them as clear as I possibly can.

     But there is a sneaky devil called Ego that likes to whisper in my ear sometimes, too many times. It says, “you could make that sentence prettier, ya know,” or, “bit dry, don’t ya fink? How ‘bout makin’ em laugh, to freshen fings up a bit, aye?”

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