(One) Cent Postage

If I were a poised vessel that held a small number of coloured marbles, then I'd have to say that about one month ago I finally tipped over (or was I laid gently on my side?) and those coloured marbles were finally freed and on they continue to roll, following easy and strong and interesting paths.

If this virtual space were a vessel sat upon my kitchen bench, it would be a large, chipped earthernware bowl in which I have, over time, placed a variety of ingredients in all number of combinations; savoury, sweet. Successful, weird. The use-by dates of these ingredients surprise me. 2006? Four years. One hundred posts. And 'posts' is a poignant word in this context; an unexpectedly personal context, for these entries are like letters, or notes really, posted more to oneself than anyone else in the end.