I have returned.

Life is funny. You come to realize just how far things have gotten off course far too late to do anything about it. By the time you see what a stupid choice you made, its often far too late.

The truth is I haven't been writing very much. As cliche as it sounds, artists have to be tortured in a way to produce. Picasso had his drinking. Van Gough had his depression. Both of them made huge contributions to the artistic world.

I will never say I am in the league of such gentlemen, but I understand now how art requires sacrifice. for me, my status is bordum. I hate it. Yet when I am most bored, I am most creative. Go figure, ehh?

I was involved with a woman who took my writing away from me. At first i was happy. Loneliness is hard to bear. Yet, I found inspiration in being alone. I created worlds, postulated ideas, used my time productively. I made a list of story plots and I am writing hard. Work is slow since I am under watch at my job. They planted me right in front of someone who can see my screen. Makes writing difficult.

But it progresses. I am slowly crawling out of the ashes. who knows what I will produce?

In the mean time, I leave you with my pride and joy. Come spring, this will be how I get around.

Its a trike. I ride a Trike now. Trikes are cool.

Wish me luck.