The desertous place

Do you know why this place always feels like a desert to me? Do you know why I am so thrilled to find a blog whose most recent post was a few days ago, and whose other posts each trail closely behind the succeeding? Because then I’ll have companion, and this place would be less of a desert.

I don’t like pictures. It feels like they reveal nothing other than meretricious splendor. I suppose it might be more of blessing to have a liking for pictures. Then I would be roaming those pictorial moors and finding delight all the time, because everyone there seems to be so enthusiastic.


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