I miss this blogging thing.

Yes for my own. Yes for the company I loved. Yes for once-upon-time-dark-rooms-filled-with-angst place.

But it's all gone now.

Dan Rather, MTV, fucking republican propaganda machine, dickheads all have 'blogs'. I know crying seems like an OK response to this statement. But I'm not sad so much as I'm back. Back to what made me blog in the first place but with no real home for my words. There are labels and people and courts watching all this. No just the us-them.

We're all here now.

So who's the most full of shit? Who is the bad guy in this parade of sensational assholes? Us, them or fools creating new log-ins as we read? There is no safe place left people.

So many months away and I come back with a downer. Wish I was sorry.
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She stood a few feet away. Crying, for hope of washing all the bad things away. Enduring my cool presence, aloof and lost inside a sizeless room. Locked, one could say, inside a mid-day prison. Lost, all could admit, but not gone. A problem of the mind to where the heart could not suspect it's impeding dilemma. Moving, she hid, as best one could in times like these, and closed in. Compacting all the things that vexed her into nut sized drama. I thought she meant to sallow it as means to bring it's end. Perhaps, I pondered, she meant to study it and find that which could undo the pains that shackled her to this moment. I waited quietly for my time. I hoped to secure some perspective. I wanted to help. But the things you want and things that happen are none too similar come the instance. No, I did what I could but it wasn't my best.

But that's OK: she'll cry again come not too long.



I'll be ready then.

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