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We need to make that drive, man. I'll introduce you to some ghosts I know just a bit further west . . . which may be a metaphor we don't need to pursue, that "down the road" "ahead of you" accumulation of souls we eventually join in the big dust storm of God-only-knows! Southside road, windows down, banditoed-up, ghost stories and the printed page . . . or a backyard beer, either way. Write on, my friend.

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Let's make it happen.

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I love this Chris.

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Thank you, Betsy. :)

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Aug 8, 2020Liked by Chris La Tray

Potently Real. Feel fortunate to have shared some of these joys and pains, and to call you a Brother.

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Thank you, Jimmy. You've been a huge part of a lot of this. Best, longest running friend I've had.

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founding

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. This post feels so honest and transparent and pure soul, one of my favourite writings from your heart and your hands.

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Thanks, Marie, as always.

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Aug 7, 2020Liked by Chris La Tray

Your blog today reminds me of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116. One line states, “(Love) bears it out to the edge of doom,”

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That's beautiful. Thank you for sharing that.

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Thank you for this wealth of real life, Chris. It's the stuff that matters; how we measure time on a grander scale. If we are in touch with ourselves in the least bit, the past that will never be again is bathed in melancholy. I get it. I felt my own while reading your words.

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Thank you, Tom.

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Thanks for sharing the song. It's great. As is the writing, as always. I'm so sorry for your losses.

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