those crows sick their starving wings on choking out the sun full sinking pinks

I had great questions to ask you all, polls and open thoughts. They're gone now, as these things go.

I'm fixing to have a great time.

I didn't mean to do a short post like this, but I'm not sure of what to say. I've had a good while (along the same lines as a good night, or a good weekend), I'm happy, and excited, and nervous, and worried, but flowing, and laughing my way through the day (and I'd laugh through hurricanes and fire, to be sure). I'm rereading favorite books, and exploring new ones, I'm revisiting old pleasures and giving credence to new ones, I'm delighting in noise and in color and wordplay, and along with that I owe someone an apology, for hypocrisy. Sorry.

Dreadnought is such a word... it's used to describe a certain shape of guitar, usually strung with steel strings, with the 14th fret at the body. The word is very ... acute at the moment? Maybe not the right word, but it has that pointed, somewhat painful feeling that I'm trying to convey.