Contemplation

There is life.
There are people.
There are events.
These factors beget much:
thought,
reminisce,
contemplation.
When I am not talking, not writing, not reading, what am I doing? Well there is a simple answer to that question. I am contemplating anything and everything, and I thinking about the many scripts to life, the depth of human nature.
You may look at me while in that state and may not comprehend. That is to be expected. I am in deep though even though my exterior does not reveal that fact.
Brilliant minds. Beautiful souls. This is Artrosy, 1768. . .