Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Pirates afloat on a windy sea.":
Too much garbage in-coming. This has been
tried before . Shut us all down for a day or so
When the conversation meanders off in a dozen different directions , the disorder seems to cause discomfort here and there.
A suggestion is inevitably put forward to take a break
At this end, I find all of it interesting. Of course, there's always a clump of stuff that doesn't get published because it's abusive.
The fact is, this kind of discourse entices people to join in.
Numbers are always maintained when there's a bit of tension.
When things calm down, readers get bored and numbers fall slightly. Then something electric happens and they quickly spike.
I never need to create a topic. The threads just spin off by themselves. We never wander far from town affairs.
I like it when it takes off in a direction I didn't anticipate . We always come back to the start.
We're not composing an amendment to the constitution.
We're just ruminating and turning over rocks
Like we did when we were kids. Like picking up a blade of grass or a leaf and stripping the green away from the veins , discovering a blade of grass can cut sharp as a knife or make a whistling sound.
There was a weed that grew on the river bank. The stem was strong and fibrous. A jungle was recited as the stem was tied in a knot.
Johnny had a gun
And the gun was loaded
Johnny pulled the trigger
and the gun exploded.
The stem had a little brown pom-pom at the end that was used for the final dramatic tug.
At that point the knot pulled hard and broke
Then we did it again or something else.
Little games and rhymes occupied our thoughts and hands, played alone or with friends.The time we spent together meant we loved each other dearly. Our friends were everything to us.
The days were endless, never dull .
Just lying on the grass watching a kite flying or clouds moving across the sky or being "first to spy an aeroplane".
We had nothing. And we had everything.