Once Broken, Considered Sold.

Work beckons.

A technical fault in my ISP resulted in sixty-six minutes frittered away before the voice of a human was heard.

Before I continue to slog on my slides and worksheets on the other laptop, here's a quick entry.

Today, Mr D.F. asked what the constant stumbling block in my life was.

The nature of the answer was evident.

It's hard to watch You go by, without much of an inkling if there'd be a next time.

To be haunted by the Past in the Present for the Future.

That's quite a mouthful, isn't it?

It's not easy to forget when You ply sweet words of mirth with lavish linguistic garnishings, ornately carved to the ears

Conversely, neither is it easy to pry open the very fingers that clutch wildly at these straws.

If I'm just an ego-effusive toy, the shackles jingle thus -

Once Broken, Considered Sold.

**[ And now, work mounts on another laptop. Goodnight. ]