Sorry, folks. I know I have not been around for awhile. I've been ducking out of view, staying out of the house. I don't want to get trapped into depression and just sitting in front of a computer all day.

In other news, I have completed another story. I so hope you'll go see it.

However, I am keeping up with all of you, and am so enjoying the Tolkien clash going on with Bowbee and Spinning Girl.

Monkey, of course, and the Banana Peel films are keeping me in high spirits, while I'm concerned for Calzone's soul.

And to my supporters, who have been so uplifting, even though we've had spats or not:
Justin, Madge, Rowan, Heather, CG, Goblin...
I know I've forgotten some, but to you folks, too, I say thanks. How nice to have a community.

Thanks.

Oh, and CRUSH you. Thanks for sticking with my blog all this time. You are the most demented individual I know, but you make it all so kosher, with your genius posts mixed in with that anarchist mantra of yours.

And Now: An Ode to Myself, Because I Need It.
A Conversation With an Alien
(A voice from outer space):

Hello, hello, can you hear me?
I've been watching this Earth of yours...how alone you are, all of you.
In all the vastness of space, I've never seen creatures as separated
as the likes of you. Such galaxies do not exist.
Here, in the inky darkness considered the end and beginning,
there is a footpath of souls traisping up and down,
bumping into one another, creating something out of nothing.
On Earth, it seems, you have forgotten your souls.
But I have not. I've watched. I've kept watch, a sentry floating above
in my spaceship, collecting your prayers, reading them,
watching the brainwaves that resemble your oceans.
Do you hear me?

I have sat outside on the porch, watching the birds
about their business, taking on brave armor, desperately seeking
maidens' attentions. I have seen the world unfurl
around me and have been amazed. I am seeking
myself amidst confusion.
Yes, I hear you.
Yes.

I consider the flesh of my body.
I consider the hue of my hair, the green eyes, the rosebud lips.
I consider the state of my soul--this lonely place you describe.
With my back against a tree trunk, I am rooted
to the Earth, and can see in front of me the wideness of the sky,
the wideness of hope.
Yes, I hear you.

Why do you fear so much? I see this:
you are afraid of what you wear and how you speak.
You are afraid of poorness and poverty.
You are afraid of being unloved, undesired.
These are such strange fears to me--my home
is made of stars and energy. Each tiny star
is kept in balance with heat and rays of light.
Why do you fear?

On Earth, we burn quicker than these stars.
We tempt ourselves with consumption to delay
the onslaught of death.
We are Philistines to the very end, concerned about
the quality of coffins.
We are afraid of death. And loneliness.

These are such small things, Elizabeth.
These are such tiny motes in the specks of Space.
Why, the life you have is so brief, Elizabeth.
But so much could be done. What shall you do?
Fear until you crumple into pieces and die?
Or, better, resurrect yourself over and over.
Yes, this I know, is the truth.

You are fading...come in! Come in!

We're leaving, now, called onward.
We are looking for you out here.
You'll be here soon. Forget your fears and live.
All shall be well.
Entropy is a term scientists use...heading to death.
The Death is the collapse of the star, the Black Hole,
and then...the densest matter creates smatters of gases
and the gases grow and explode, and then,
there is Life.
Create your own star, my friend.
Create your own Life, Elizabeth.