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the only fucking way I know before/after So much has happened, transpired. I'm trying to...process...it all. The implication. The weaving threads of encounters, smiles, words said, like a tapestry, yet somehow I am the center of the threads. I am the loom. The days thread between my strings. Perhaps I'm always there, and the patterns of matter and energy that we all are moved against each other in the specific way it did to create you, and me, and everything. Until I'm not. And you're not. But your energy will whirl around. Create another version of you, until there is no you, no possible way to be you, the ceaseless storms that formed you finally stall. And you know peace. Anyway, yes, lots has happened. Indeed. I really need to think about how to break this loose, unspool this. I used to do multi part series, now I pass by in the night. Maybe I'll try to do a multi-parter. No promises. I did it all my way. I do it all my way. Its the only way I fucking know!
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