Curses you...

...with kind words, of course. Ah, psychosis.

Each time I open the door, as I've done "it ten times or more," I come here with the intent to write. To exorcise the daemons that torment my mind. Oh, but traipsing to read your words, I, myself find. Cursed words... executed with precision, not written for me, "the girl with the mousy hair", nor likely anyone, but there.
Their mere existence draw me in. Lost in them. My thoughts escape me again.
The daemons quiet and giggle in their defeat. Are you in league?
I can't help but wonder this... Oh the effect... seemingly it's...

...it may have been nothing. It could have been everything. No harm was meant of this. For myself, nothing is trivial or a "dead end". I believe that, my friend, everything happens for a reason. We may not know the reason, or be capable of understanding the reason due to the interface in which we are working, but there is one. Whether psychological, chemical, spiritual... it IS.

Appreciated and cherished, you are. Always will be. After all, you're "in the best selling show." Still sensed, even now, from afar. I do hope all is well with you in the world. May you find what you are looking for or at least peace with what IS. I will maintain in the Great Oneness what I know to be truth...

...for you cannot "untouch" what has been touched. You do still have the power to inspire and with that the writing shall now commence.


"To my mother, my dog, and clowns
But the film is a saddening bore
'Cause I wrote it ten times or more
It's about to be writ again
As I ask you to focus on" ~DB 1973