It's endlessly funny how one can pine so intensely for a stranger, concieve a relationship in all its fullness, yet remain motionless. Or by funny do I mean tragic?

No ending on somber notes. I've been fine. I wrote a fairly stupendous paper (at least I like to think so) which, since I enjoyed the results, am still revising. It was due yesterday. I'm working on several "projects" (hint: these projects move by uniformed men, through sleet and snow, thick and thin, something and yeah...). So there is a drunkness to my sobriety.

Anyhow. Lines (lions) to be read, thoughts to be had.

!!!