Looking through the archive so I discovered that, in total, 100k words were written (roughly).
Leafing through what I once wrote (some I’ve since uploaded here) reads like a different author.
Some may remain in the archive as it seemed too irrelevant or serious or rambling. Not to imply any of these entries are that much better, but at least there are less words, right?
I guess that’s what additional cycles give you: a mellowness.
The only thing missing is an email contact sort of thing, but I genuinely cannot imagine having an email exchange. It would drive me up the wall – it’d kill me. Luckily there aren’t any that need to email me anyway. I’m just doing everyone a favor and not sharing the email I made specifically for this pseudonymous context.
Sometimes I feel guilty about abandoning things. That’s why it’s better to barb the wire while you still can. Though the screams are in the distance, at least they aren’t in your bathroom. No opium infestations to deal with.
I’ll cradle my delusions and wait again to share them with you.