The time flies, oh, the time flies. They feed on rotting clocks.

I wrote another novel which i kept thinking was magic realism but is probably just straight fantasy since its hold on the real is tenuous at best. I think its about violence or love and always about memory and its relation to identity. There are giant trees, an immense forest that may be the birth canal of a new world, a foreverstorm, a world that can’t sleep and doesn’t have a sky, a world in flux, lost memories that live inside vagabond echoes, an infinite ocean that may be the bridge to our dead world, a mute healer who may be a god dreaming it all, and all sorts of things about transmutation, transubstantiation, and just plain transition. It’s a continuous linear unbroken stream of words from a single first person perspective, which made it taxing and difficult to write, especially when so much of this is about the absence of things, including time. But i love it for now. I’ve not read it through. Can’t. Daunting. It needs some work, i know, some ironing out to bend it into a sensible story. But i’m proud to have it finished and it only took nine days.

Madison [finally: one of  my best friends, Ian, has lived there for the last four years and i’ve never made a visit] for the weekend for Halloween, then onto Chicago for the beginning of next week to finalise my visa, then back home and a going away party for me that Friday. Big life.

Since i’ve stopped the daily updates, i’ve grown incredibly infrequent. I’ll try to pick it up. I’ll be sure to post before i leave to Korea and then shortly after arrival. Maybe.

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