^ (n a v i g a t e) ^
1:02am, 2001-02-28
the gallant patriarch has lost his flock. i await instruction atop mount sinai but guidance is unnecessary. decidedly vague, purposefully ambiguous. wretched trickery. foul, cruel, indulgent trickery. ruse. nothing but a dead-end dtreet. i have no time. none at all. spin.spin.spin.a crusade without a cult-- no longer am i an important person. a salivary globule poised to rend the multitudinous seas. aroint thee!
once-triumphant, charismatic days of glory have long since past. a subtle sense of unease has been felt of late... a numbing sense that all allies have fled the scene... is it that i'm out of practice? what's wrong with me that i have had my writig skills turned off like the burner on a stove? fatigue? disinterest? atrophy? i am a burgeoning slew of untamed passion, swelling forth at speed yet subsiding without alarum or an inkling of an indication as to when or how or why inspiration will return... nought's had, all's spent...
