Yet Another Post to be Covered Up Soon

This is for old friends. You may not believe it possible, but every time you come back a new strand will be added to this intricate mesh of lines inside me. It's not like the addition will weaken the web, and it's not like the underlying strands will lie forgotten either, so come back.


This is for the new ones. To what is fragrant and warm and waiting to be drunk in.

If all of you collectively leave, it's not like I'll curl up and die. But somewhere within there will be a little part of the heart that will shrink and dissolve into nothingness. And everyone knows that people with holes in their hearts ultimately die.

As I'm writing this today, all the light bulbs in my room have given out (some from last week, but I'm lazy). Yet another conspiracy. But try and get the atmosphere, will you? Yes yes, I know, I see dead people. But why not? Everyone must have these moments of tenssun leading to overflowing of emossun, so grant me mine. This post has been long overdue because all I seem to do here is talk about myself without acknowledging people who make me want to sit down and tell the world about... stuff. And I'm not very good at it so I'll cough and stop and pretend I never wrote this.



I'm mellowing down all right. Next I'll be writing poetry.