is (or was) it irony that Last Chance To See (Douglas Adams) was the reading (paused) when i finally drifted away from the first online blog that i maintained in simple html text files uploaded to my supposed webpage for life (remember those?) web space provided by the early internet service providers (lycos, infoseek, go, and lastly at&t who deleted thousands of pages in spite of the fact that i was a paying customer... corporate reorganizations made it legal, though not ethical or moral or right)... and is it fitting that the third entry here reaches back for those roots and the feelings so deep they feel almost numb, so asleep for so long, so tired of waiting to be shared like a prehistoric flow of natural history under everything, the mantle of the online written gardens... how the books were once threefold, the first for the surface, the thoughts about the events of the life, the second for the babble, the free flow random association of thoughts and the third for the feelings, the depths of wonder that the sensory experience can be... those hand written volumes are in storage near niagara falls, ny, waiting for the time of sharing, for the one who wants to share that much... all the secrets and perhaps, some real hints to who i am... wouldn't i like to know lol lam :)
the former written gardens online which lead to a kind of signposts page, a crossroads once links to all of the online writings, though, alas, so many links there have died which is one reason that is now being reincarnated as the new crossroads loosely called opinions and complaints (where links are alive for now) and the latest explanatory notes introducing the current paths and blogging notes added to as new growth (writing) develops... and these are the backbones, foundations, pillars, and primary paths leading into the writings that become much more than just the record of a life...
... tbc?
