Been blurring the margins a bit lately. Between here and places where I have outed myself officially, and likely forever, it gets confusing. Included in the outing are people I haven't spoken with in over 20 years. That's not to say that I hate them, or anything like that. More of a disinclination to open that can o' worms. And deal with what crawls out. Like the past. Like the ghost of me past. Oh my, yes.

And this place gets to become the fortress of solitude in a way. My secret haven of gloom, doom, turbulence and strife. Or whatever. Aren't you lucky?

I suspect not so much. But then, neither am I. Not really. Never could rely on luck. Too abysmally unreliable. Good in a pinch some times.

So there it is. And there I am. Out in the open, exposed to the light. Shining on.