first

i've always said i'd write. but i've never had the structure either internal or external. how odd to find structure in a cyberspace that doesn't exist created by someone i won't ever know. is this human generosity or grace? i recognize that it is likely neither, just the workings of the machine, the forces of entropy ever widening and consuming. and so i am consumed, and find grace, within this nonspace.

thank you to anonymous, rather thank you to the multiple anonymi whose energies have converged to create for me this moment. this moment that no one might ever see but me. but the possiblity of being seen provides a slight frisson. to be known so intimately and so anonymously. but i write for myself alone. don't i?