Just to be honest with you, gentle reader; I write this more for myself than for you. As I find myself in the realm of the mildly insane, I need to give voice to my lament so that it does not consume me. In creativity there is release, and there is life. Kept to myself the tears go from a slight trickle to a flood of unending pain for absolutely no reason. By putting it to pen I can divert the flood and perhaps found a place of life instead of a dirge. I therefore beg your indulgence of melancholy and encourage your chuckle at manic moments which are sure to come. For of one thing I am sure, the wilderness is of my own making.
