, , she left today. Now she’s far away, train bound for a cold place where everything’s better, where everything’s safe. I wish I were on the train with her, heading farther east. I miss my people there and I’ve gathered new ones. I’m sure I could find somewhere to stay. Nothing like her home, her welcome back to the family. It’s like walking on water, this step out into nothing. I think she’s brave for doing it, but that’s not quite the word. I’m looking for a different description, one that involves more acceptance of fate, of the workings of the general world. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give her a proper goodbye. I sat in the doctors chair, a machine in front of my face, elaborate workings of lens catchment and vision, as she walked away and then gone. My mother drove her to the train station and I felt a little like there was a detachment. A piece of me feels I’m failing, that I don’t know what to give people. I thought to send her off with music, I thought to send her off with blue sparkle-made rain, but I didn’t send her off with anything. I didn’t know what to do. A part of life stepping away that I might never see again. I suppose it’s what flesh is made of, “it’s harder than I thought.”
She wrote me a poem, she read it to my mother as she left. I’ve been wanting to write her something, but didn’t know what. I suppose this is it. I miss her, but she’s on the road to where she needs to be. What will she do there? I don’t know. Write, I suppose, learn what a new city is like. The two of us are still running parallel on-line, though I’m starting to feel like a I’ve got a high-rise view. My internet kingdom spreading before me, who needs T.V.? This is sponsored by you, my lovelies, and we are beginning to create.
Alastair‘s caught the bug finally. The reason why we call this place a web. We’re building a radio station. Streaming noise with pieces of as much of everything as I can collect. We’ve got listeners, he’s going to taste what I’m always talking about. Media networking, it’s not a waste of time, eradicate the silence. My bang-on daily bread, sweetened with honey friends like driving in a fast, fast car. There’s always so much to learn. I want to be filled until I fly, it’s nice to try and give something back. It’s not culture, but it’s related, a thought balloon from the character in a panel that was thrown away.
