It's hard now to write without feeling like I have a reader. Somehow that's made the subject more obscure, lacking direction, lacking voice, a systemic breakdown. Grudgingly there is a story to be salvaged, but the will to tell it is more like a gasp for air, anxious. Do you now, reader, know who you are, who I write for? Is it obvious?
Late at night I craft these symbols like a prayer -- a pagan prayer to words -- instead of alone.