B's getting nostalgic and weepy, I think, and I understand her. A year ago, I would not have-- thank god for this year. It's just a figure of speech--there's no god--you delusional freak.
She posts all these fantastic poems and write-ups, and I realize my writing has not really evolved in recent years, even when I have written several thousand words daily for a stretch several times. But ceasing to write is definitely not going to improve things, so I'm back to dumping as many words as I can in one go. In a related note, Bu started writing, bu then stopped because people discovered her secret identity. I have no comments; whatever floats her boat.
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