i've been wanting to sit and let some things pour
but that moment never seems to happen.
even now, that i am here, it seems like everything has taken to the shadows and will linger there until it grows or rots.
it's all a whirlwind, with ghosts from long ago present in my thoughts.
forests of dreams with houses to peruse their secrets and delights.
it's the real world i am in now, the real world that keeps all these things from springing to the forefront now.
it's the real world that calls me even now...