There is so much to tell, and so much I can not say. The spring is feverish.
Currently there is a woman cooing at what I hope is her dog, out for a late night once round the courtyard. She is coaxing it in high pitched tones into relieving itself, no doubt for the greater good, otherwise known as her carpet. I love sleeping with the windows open, for the movement of blossom scented air around me, and a cool pillow, but the sounds of a lady and her cockapoo puppy I could do without.
Really, it is harder and harder to write as certain stories unfold in my universe, for until the tales are unravelled, there is too much to lose. Great things are at stake, and in limbo, including my very heart, and my patience and good will, my compassion and rationality are being tested. There are many decisions to be made, but all things in order and in good time.
In the mean time, I have procured art supplies, to keep my fingers busy, books for my thoughts to be pushed aside, and a bicycle and helmet that I might keep this heart pumping and strong while waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting.
You will know, soon enough, and most of you know something of it already. The stars and planets, they are aligning.
Me, I just work and write jokes. More jokes. Dark jokes. Dirty jokes. I am getting ready to take on the world.
Good night, my dears.