here at a lost empire of trade

I haven't commented, yet, upon the place that I've found myself as of late. Not my station in life - but the actual place that I'm living.


one brain-fried slump
with a side of bleh

I haven't written anything for nearly three weeks. That's almost a fucking month. Jesus fucking fuck.

Nothing of note, that's for sure. The only substantial thing I've written in three whole weeks was a few paragraphs as a comment on someone's Medium article about podcasting. That was earlier today, though, so does it even count?

I might be cursed, but that's entirely unrelated.

I thought I might mention that for anyone who is concerned - a lot of my previous posts are partially based in fiction. Example: I have never actually been to Africa. That string of posts were to distract me from my own reality. There are a few other things I've written here that are stretched to fit a storytelling perspective.

In reality, my life seems more dull to me than it might appear to an outside observer, so in order to create an emotional connectivity, I change things around. It's the feeling expressed that is true, not necessarily the details.