Love Drugs and Poetry

This blog- dormant now for over a year and past its prime for close to four years was never as big on Love as the title suggests. And it was not so much about Drugs as it was experimentation. Poetry it had. Poetry it was and synergy and youthful exuberance. This blog was not started by me, but I was one of the first to contribute to the over 700 posts. We started as friends who lived very near each other- who maybe saw each other too much. Indeed some outsiders dubbed us The Cult. Ha, well we loved each other even if there were not so many tales of romance. Personally, I always find that talk to be personal. Over the months and years we gathered more people to contribute, some friends of friends, some faceless internet scoundrels and deviants who shared our hearts and thoughts. I even met one of these, Kelly Peach, randomly and through painstaking coincidence while I was hitchhiking through WA and stayed for a few nights on her juggling-farm.

Where have these people gone? What are on our thoughts now?

I'm afraid that these old motifs may not play out so well now as they once did. Our innocence is lost. Even one (at least) of our members is dead now. My drug experimentation has turned into habit, what love i pined for and never chose to speak about still prefers to go unspoken and may be even more sparse. Poetry. Poetry i have.

So, this blog is not what it once was. In fact it is nothing. It is dead. There is no phoenix either. There is only ash.

Is this what happens to a fire when it burns so bright? It exhausts itself? Well, if there is anything I am learning it is persistence. And I may be dead. This blog may be crushed and ruined but it will not fade away. Not from my mind. Not until this rain stops.

So let this grow, let this alter, let this blog be what it may. Let it descend into tales of habit, longing and poetry.

Speaking of the Miraculous Persistence of the Human.

Privacy, Habit and Poetry.