Okay, having started this I feel compelled to do something with it, yet one more thing to fritter away precious time on. By way of introduction, there are phantoms of all sorts haunting my synaptic pathways. Shadows reflected by the past, cast by the future, and hiding in dreams. They are creatures made of things that have been, things that might be, and things that never were. Their reality is variable, as phantoms are want to be. I do not know how often or how creative this might become, again it is a matter of time, energy and commitment. The older I get the more things I have to consume the available time.
I am explorer on the edge of memory, on the edge of identity, on the edge....
So here I am, and there you are, and I now have something meager to populate this page. Not very ambitious, to be sure, but then there is that old rascal time taunting me with the promise of more, while snatching it away even as I get excited over the prospect. May time be kinder to you than she has been to me.
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