It was one of the most uninspired writing experiences in recent memory. Yes, it was borne out of anguish, but it was an anguish stemming from empty.

I feel it as some friends do - this month and this weather is stretched taffy. It doesn't even try to plod on, like normal heavy boots do. It has to linger and stick and display its entire sweetness in front of you, yet you yourself, you're smothered in even greater taffy, too immobile to reach out and try stretched taffy. Greater taffy just wouldn't have it.

A secret smile - unknown territory discovered, always by accident. Why is it always accidental when it comes to you? It doesn't matter anymore. So far away, and yet with no regrets, I say some things remain. Good things remain.

Best wishes, man.