We don’t get here much, anymore. Unfulfilled obligations to thine (mine) own self, along with all the others. A real festive sentiment.
Saturday Evening Post: 11.6.21
How thin is the line between passion and habit? The space dividing perspective and obsession? Is it vast, or but a miniscule difference that even an observationally endowed beast might still fail to see?
Monday Evening Post: 9.27.21
Was it courage? Some sort of boldness and bravery, that would lead me to this place? The cliff upon which I would dive out into the harrowing depths of my own consciousness. The precipice from which I would precipitate an amateur ideology that somehow always reassured some sense of self belief. Was it that…
Thursday Evening Post: 7.22.21
It is quite a thing when a task feels simultaneously foreign and natural. To know a sense of belonging whilst still feeling some nakedness upon engagement. Thousands upon thousands of words, derived from some smaller yet still quantitative number of thoughts have occurred in this here spot. And no closer may we be, even…
The Veracious Facade 