aspect-ratio-16x9

The Maine coast is socked in with fog. I love what fog does to sounds. At this hour, it is dead quiet...I mean DEAD quiet. I am standing out on my deck, taking the evening miasma, and having my last cigarette before going to bed.  The moon is a micronic sliver, and the fog/clouds are souping over it like sludge. All the leaves are gone now, and the trees are sticking up like weird static dendrites. I suddenly realize I am rocking side to side, legs stiff, like some kind of demented gingerbread man, making the accross-the-road neighbor's doorbell light go off, on, off, on, off, on as my gingerbread man dance shifts it alternatly behind an

I have managed to avoid the temptation to indulge in the blogosphere for ages. for some reason, i just have an aversion to those things, they seem so high maintence.  Like having a needy friend...who never sends you anything but dumb jokes and mass emails with endless FW:(blahblah) on the subject line, then gets all snitty when you dont personally respond to every useless nugget they toss your way. they call you un-communicative, agoraphobic, chastise you for becomming a hermit, and being rude to them, when the truth is you have nothing whatsoever to say in response to thier mindless blatherings.  why isnt there an E-equivilent to a blank s

https://www.deviantart.com/deviation/42734284/