The Art and craft of happy floating.

Floating is a good thing. Free floating is better still. I have immersed myself in the healthy and happy feeling of knowing that at the drop of a hat or the ring of a bell or the snapping of three ugly fingers, I can, really just stop. Feeling. That is what empowers me to write such beautiful blog posts with no point but ah, such clarity of thought.

The stitches on my stomach have probably a lot to do with the fact that I constantly hurl myself down the silky mesh of dreams and fantastic little dreams which are all about food. No more. no less. Or, maybe, on second thoughts, a little more than just food.

The year that passed was definitely a bleeding eventful one. With fun frolic and fiesta galore. But the end of it, and the start of the new year, my friends, will have to be the the most depressing times I've faced in a long time. And I mean a long time.

Having said that, one must also mention that certain things happen which distract one from the dangerously depressing times looming large. Things that navigate one's perspective towards the bright and the vague and the floaty.