For every action there is a reason. For every right, a wrong. I
know when I am wrong, and something is
wrong, although the root cause remains elusive still. Yet at some point it simply doesn't matter anymore. If you can't discern what is wrong, then sod it all, right? Right. Just forge on, keep going, march hither and there, and perhaps the meaning will make itself obvious in time. But if not, well what can a girl do? Know they enemy, even if thy enemy is thyself. Enemies wax and wane.
There are a many things I must say to a few people. Nathaniel, Zacharias, Justin, Granger, etc. I shall start with the petty trifles: throwing ink is wrong. Granger, I am ready to accept your apology now.
I'm feeling: discontent