Busy

I’m happiest in my books. There are people I love, but the vast majority of people are very, very disappointing.



It is amazing anyone has an audience in this age which celebrates the self so much.



Younger people are the worst audience: inconstant, led by their whims, they really are the oldest people I know. They don’t need their minds to physically deteriorate in order to demonstrate their slavishness to the motions of any sort of body, real or perceived.



I need to work on putting together an audience. The audience has to be older this time, though, and having that which characterizes those who are truly older – seriousness. I’m not sure how this will happen, for it depends on people finding me in the noise that is the Internet more than anything else, but it needs to happen.





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