So, I lied

It happens.

I guess one gets a taste of pseudo- audience and it’s hard to do this any other way. Not impossible. Not even nearly impossible. But “break-the-routine” hard.

I could write this as I wrote everything (on my computer/in a random notebook) with a fantastical notion that, one day, it will be read. This blog thing is like crack. …without the stringent physical side-effects. And without the stringent physical side effects, it’s harder to categorize and learn from. It’s harder to deem something “harmful”. It’s harder to stop and resume everyday life.

Well, anyway, I’m writing half-thoughts on this thing right now. That’s what’s happening. Whatever. We’ll forgo the Phil is dead thing because there’s nothing really to write there.

 

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