What stretches on with infinite patience, sprawling between moments, what attenuates to translucent obscurity, though you may try and try to engrave such grasping words, are they not but written in the clouds? What else can possibly sustain you? It is (hopefully) enough to strive for the most meager moment of emotional release, inasmuch as the starving man may be sustained by the thinnest of broth... In the desert the merest drop of water will be an opportunity for celebration, or at least the climate is fierce enough to demand your notice of this.
Now that I've signed over a chunk of my identity, or surely some subtly momentous change has come about...at any rate I feel a shade more peaceful than when I was working there.
I AM SO GLAD I WENT THERE FIRST!
Today has already been productive. All you ever need is one day.
I wonder who reads this... Probably no one.