To return, then. This feels strange, as though my diaries have been on-line for years without my knowledge…To come across pages, burned, as though through arson attack, in a house left to the elements…And yet, do I fill in the context?
No, nor do I delete the past. Far too honest, as the posts below would suggest. If, indeed, they were ever written. That’s the thing about the Internet; for all I know, the readership of this blog has been “0” before and will remain so thereafter.
Updates? There’s been a few. Moved house (twice, it must be…no?). Mind still unsettled, but mildly, nothing extreme or violent. My addictions have moved on (nothing much stronger than cans of Relentless and ham-salad sandwiches).
Dreams remain quite bizarre. It’s mildly amusing reading some of these early posts, and the brazen honesty which put them up here in the first place. Vanity Publishing at its most obvious. All real, though, maybe too much so.
To remain, though, that is the question. I’d rather stay…