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"(I'm Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear" - Too much floccinaucinihilipilification. Not enough supercalifragilisticexpial...

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January 19th, 2017

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12:13 pm - "(I'm Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear"
Fighting wars on more than one front with limited or zero resources just to survive (as ever, blah blah), I pause for breath and look around. Three visits in the first half of the first month of the year. Which makes you my most frequent attendee this year, bearing in mind I haven't actually written anything until today. OK.

It's been the visits in the early hours when you're alone that cause me to wonder if you're quite all right. I long ago gave up trying to rationalise why you would still bother, good or ill. You've never been able to say anything. It's past mattering that you did. Actions communicating more than words, generally. Others are pretty damn sure it's "ill". The ones that matter/ed to me were never even remotely bothered by each other, the others, but they all universally disliked you. I didn't even have to tell them the whole story. Maya, Tamarisk, Anjella, Paula, others. Even the mad, right-wing nut Rachel, she of the hypnotic, cartoon tits and horrific politics, thought of you as an outside context problem.

Paula (yes, don't laugh, not even bitterly for other reasons...) made the observation that retaining a counter on this site was enabling you. I pointed out that I'd agreed with that argument a decade ago and lost the functionality it provided (however reduced now) by doing so. Choosing instead, later and since, to not permit one individual's actions to effectively dictate my usage of a tool. Of course the corollary is that now I do note that you're there more obviously, standing out in a thinned crowd. The decline of LJ in the west and indeed with myself to a degree, leaves this as effectively a diary I sometimes drop in to. Often too busy actually fighting to stay vertical to write about the fights. Mostly just too tired to bother any more. I think it all; I just don't write it all down any more.

It depends on mood.

But, meanwhile, there you still are. Eighteen/thirteen years later. So I do wonder, as anyone observing this behaviour would, if you are quite all right..?

I hope you are. There were hurt times when I did not. But life is short, then you die, and everyone has their own demons and I know you have made enough of your own, that have nothing to do with me, and you feel their weight. So I simply hope that you are all right, that you are something like happy. As I once was, and am trying to be again.

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