nanojath's Journal: The eternal exegesis of form

Ever quit something, and be happy with that, and then start again, and be happy with that, and then quit again, and start to wonder what the hell it is you really want? Form. Text seems to be evolving like some kind of microbe in this day and age, and here I am, adding to the confusion with whatever nonsense bubbles out of the top of my head. But some kind of statement, even one that may never be read by anyone (except perhaps the Big Computer, by and by) seemed germane. And that is all