it seems yet again that i only update this about once a year or so. it's not a lack of time; i manage to drift through the site itself at least once a week or so. rather, it seems a matter of drifting in general. so much of this site seems like a time capsule- an image of the past, of things unchanging and marked in the exact pose as each piece was first cast.

motivation, then. or rather the lack thereof. the will to create certainly hasn't been damaged; the drive to follow that will, or moreso the urge to share said items then becomes the focus. far too introspective some days-- would others understand? should i be concerned with such? these ghosts are mine; borne from doubts and fears, they exist within the confines of the self. do i write this to you, then, or to my future self?

i exist. i will continue to do so. if this seems abstracted and disjointed, it is only a reflection of the mind, in this moment. there are more phantoms yet to deal with... all in their due time.

Unto Fate.