Sometimes we're all wrong

The line between helper and helped isn't always clear. What seems to be trouble to one can be safety to the other. Not all helpers are actually any good at helping. Some are resolved to wind through life, moving from oasis to oasis among the deserts. Picking up a snack here or there, if they are hungry.

A shame in life. I don't see it often, but I've seen it recently: the sight of someone who isn't able to see what they're better at. Some people can draw, and some people can write (most can write better things than I can), but enduring the crooked pictures of the person who can connect with others through words, seemingly effortlessly, is a shame. I wish I read more of your words, Ibis, and the pictures are pretty good too. Maybe I just don't understand the pictures, I've never understood paintings.

While I'm thinking of it, there must be deserts in the oceans. I don't know where, but I'll bet they're out there somewhere, and not in some sort of cheated ocean, like the arctic ocean, but in the atlantic or pacific. A part of the ocean that just doesn't see much rain. That would be something.