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- Previous clinks - the latest, I suppose - led to this information: I will be in Seattle, he will be in Seattle, and we both know it. Despite being absolutely convinced that everything I have been daydreaming about will happen, I know that none of it will. I will probably not write about it when it does - or doesn't, more like -, and I probably should not have been doing the oversharing that I have been doing for the past year. Or so I thought two days ago. What I do know is that it will be very hard for me to accept reality. And I also know that I think better with my fingers on the keyboard. And I also know that one of the reasons I've been doing things is for this product right here. So maybe you will hear about it, maybe you won't, but you probably will. Meanwhile, from the universe of myspace - oh myspace you weird weird thing, what an anti-classic way to bring resolution, what a bizarre way to come full circle. Circle? Myspace? That is a completely different but causally connected story which you don't know anything about - but who cares, really, who cares. What I care about is that the latest clinks were initiated by that old cute boy, our longest yet, our most verbose yet, one day after an initiated-by-me one, and for some confounding reason - which my imagination attributes to mutual affection - we left the safe realm of bullshit for the real realm of reality and so: I'll be there, you'll be there too, and I ain't going without you. And if I go without you, I'll be saying, come on in motherfucker. (That kind devolved from something that may or may not have made sense into me quoting the Ponys. But actually that totally makes sense to me. If you knew how much all of this was connected - which you don't - you'd be floored by the geniosity of it all. Hopefully my biographer will be able to decipher it all.) (And Merry Christmas, liebe Leute.)
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