turn this into a digital garden of some sort, whatever that means.

still this mystifying tiredness. the air is fresh and its gets better after a few days away from people.

all day on workers day, working.

sore throat, exhausted. ground to a thin veneer but it’s almost over, for now.

slinking further into obscurity.

shifting slowly over here because despite everything, the truth is I don’t really want readers.

turning off user registration again because on the internet of spam, it took less than 10 hours for the first trash user to register.

avoid the crawlers. keep it secret, keep it safe.

the days just seem to fade.

trying to write something about time and a lake in the middle of the city. I first went to see it last week and I can still almost hear the commotion the ducks were making out on the ice, in the bright light.