May 15, 2003
Tidal Wave
I could begin to ramble as though nearly a month had not passed, and, certainly, one must consider the fact that I most certainly have plenty to ramble about, what with being creatively and financially stifled the whole of those almost-thirty-days.
But I won't. Because, I love you.
Please don't visit the guestbook. Actually, please do visit the guestbook. I'm lonely. Just ignore the fact that the image remains broken, seeing as the Almighty Diaryland Server ate all of my images in the lapse of my gold membership. Am currently working on a means to retrieve them, but, for now, the empty, angry spaces remain.
I'm not properly comfortable being back yet, sort of like a lover who has been too long on vacation and is dying for a taste of their other's lips but quite baffled at how strange such a familiar gesture could feel.
Or similar.
So. I come back to you, now, at the turning of the Tide.
Yes, Tide. Laundry detergent. How do you think Gandalf keeps those robes so white, anyway?
Update: Nevermind the bollocks, the images are back! Don't ask me how it happened, it just did. I prefer divine intervention to actual work.
astera at 11:20 p.m.