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Flock_of_Gulls_Oulu_20100927Dear Words,

I am sorry that I don’t always listen, that I keep you in binders and drawers, that my need to get it right – and find the time – often stunts your wings. You deserve to burst forth like springtime, to rush into the air like a flock of gulls, to roost anywhere you like. You have work to do, I know. Hearts to touch, bowls to fill, ideas to plant, minds to flex and bend. And you’ve been stuck in this traffic jam, this bottleneck, at the corner of “I don’t have time” and “It’s not quite right yet” for far too long. There’s a semi overturned in the intersection – What if I get It Wrong, Inc. – and nothing has moved since who knows when. Some of you must wonder if you’ll even see the other side of the road, let alone your destination.

I’m sorry. This is a dangerous corner, and the road crew is paralyzed with fear of making it worse. We have three city planners assessing the situation, and I don’t think that they really know what they’re doing, local hiring being what it is.

You didn’t hear it from me, but you might want to take action yourself. A little assertion wouldn’t hurt the situation. There are enough of you to move that semi yourselves. I mean, it’s happened before. Sweet Languid made a rush for it a few years ago, and Roofing pushed through the crowd. I am sorry for my part in this. I am as stuck here as you are.

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