It’s been difficult, settling into this skin again. Strange how unfamiliar this electric body of numbers and lights and words has become in just a few weeks. So easy to let go, and tempting, and finding me again gets harder and harder each time.
I’m starting to sound like a broken record, aren’t I?
I don’t want you to think my existence is all uncertainty or depression. There’s a me somewhere enjoying the weather, reconnecting with old friends, reading the occasional potboiler (currently The Da Vinci Code, about forty years behind the rest of the world), or enjoying a newly-acquired piano (v. badly)… in other words, life goes on. But there’s something missing, and I think I left it here.
We are all pieces, moving in different planes. But, with care, we can meet ourselves and become whole again — for awhile. That’s what I’m looking for.
So thanks for all who e-mailed me asking if I was all right. I really am (as much as I ever am, at least). Just a swift, healthy kick to the head, ‘sall I need. Or that long-lost treasure map.
In the meantime, we’re on Movable Type 3.2 now, so there might be some little earthquakes over the next few days. Please excuse the dust.