For every post on this weblog, there's five more sessions of staring blankly at this "new post" form, writing a few disjointed sentences and eventually quitting.

The reason: want to express something completely inexpressable. Always. This great big truth I can't tell. Something about the complications of walking and breathing, and the humor necessary to see how pretentious the feeling is, and the good sense to know it's true.

Something like a tree with a million branches, and then a million more.

To summate, sixteen years of accumulated experience can't be summated.