Thaw That Frozen Stream of Consciousness

William Faulkner here i come rattling words one after one until I can not think of what comes next to the house wherr I lived there lived an old man who once was a fireman on the railroad steam locomotive and I used to ride trains when I was a boy on the farm in Quebec, milking cows, plowing fields, smoking cigarettes in the woods behind the barn where i also kissed my first girl, kissing girls is mighty fun, I wonder if Faulkner kissed girls and plowed fields and smoked cigarettes gawd i would love a cigarette now no really I would rather have a cigar, a big cigar and a glass of Southern Comfort while listening to some smooth jazz on a cool autumn day down by the river, down by the riverside i remember those old church songs at the little white church that was also full of white people singing songs about hard times and I suppose they had hard times back then but it didn't seem to be hard times hey Tad this is fun just letting the words pour out I wish I could type faster but i only type with four fingers so I guess that is not too bad in fact I think I remember that Faulkner used to type with just four fingers too. 


i am tired.  when I was younger i didn't get so tired but now that i am old I sometimes cannot even get the shift key to capitalize my i.

The End

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