As usual, I say that things are going to change, and indeed things have changed. To enumerate them all would be tedious and pointless at this juncture. In any case, despite a lack of evidence that anyone is reading this, I've decided to move to fatoprofugus.net. At least, this is my intention within the next month, though God knows I have mastered the Art of Procrastination.

But here was the little brain burp that made me decide to write today:

The main reason was that it was tiring. He had dashed onward and fought hard, all the while thinking that there was no way he would survive, and so nothing else mattered. He had poured his entire being into the prospect of being utterly doomed, had invested in the idea of slamming into the brick wall at full speed, but instead, almost to his horror, he had indeed survived, and in fact triumphed.

There is something dynamic about someone sailing towards their demise, something that he missed, and yet, just thinking about those hopeless summer days wearied him. It was time to settle down, time to meet his Fate in a slower, more controlled manner. His heart rebelled at the thought, but his body heaved a sigh of relief.

No, don't ask. Whatever I mean to say never comes out right anyway, so it doesn't matter. But I tried.