And So, Friends, I Return

I have been negligent, I know. This causes me no shortage of distress and heartache. Believe me, gentle readers, I would like nothing more than to be able to sate your mad appetites for constant literary gratification. There is, however, an unfortunate impediment to this dreamy wonderland world: the cold iron shackles of reality. This past week has found me working 13- and 14-hour days (not including lunch break!) at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, performing the admirably selfless duties of an extra in a feature film of unprecedented cinematic innovation and extraordinary social import. A film called Step Up 3D.

During this arduous process, my internet access was limited in such a way that Web logging to any meaningful degree was rendered near-impossible. But let us not turn now to despair, for these dark days may now watch our backs as we saunter forward, ever forward. We chance upon this day or that, fearful and loving and cold, until at last we find a hammock to sit in as all the world passes by at once and for always, infinite repetition of a spiral leading nowhere.

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