In the future.

In the future I envision, there's a vast wasteland of abandoned blogs. Words written in the throws of emotion and too soon forgotten. Empty. The way we think of a wild-west ghost-town in an old spaghetti western. A dried husk, haunted with old, dark, whispered secrets.

The clack of thunder and the smell of an electric-storm heavy on the horizon.

I am here.

I will write soon.