So. Google Plus.

https://plus.google.com/#112030251199838137436/posts

Yep.

I'm also all of these places: http://wolven.livejournal.com/1877913.html

And I realised that I forgot the rest of my food, at the Vortex. Damn it.

In the end

We find people and we lose people. We are, ourselves, lost and we are ourselves, found.

We let people in (in) in the desperate hopes that someone, anyone, will know us for long enough to make us want to be the best US we can be, and eventually the best person to be able to tell us that comes along and we listen to ourselves and we are us, us, us.

We shave off bits and pieces of ourselves and spread them around and no place, no person, no time gets the same combination of the dust of us.

And then, months later, we've lost a friend and gained an acquaintance, and then, years later we refind a friend, and then... and then?

Always shaping into something else, whatever comes next.

Always the one doing the shaping.

I am the devil. I am a bad man. I am angelic, animalistic, human. I'm the monster under your bed, but I'll always always tell you that I'm there. I'll never leave you, in the dark.

I may be a monster, but at least i'm an ethical monster.

Tell me something. Ask me anything.

Something you never knew about me: I once dug my own latrine, for a "colonial" camping exercise. It was late elemetary school, and the thing I remember most abotu the whole camping experience isn't the latrine digging, but the smell of sausages frying in a cast iron skillet, at 6.30 in the morning, in the almost-cold mid-spring air. I can still remember it, to this day. I also began to learn caligraphy, that day. Those lessons didn't stick.

Good night