Welcome to Landless, a place for prose. This reboot is certainly escapist and presumptuous, but it's a necessary thing, I think. There are so many things that I, wearing my writer's hat, need to be able to say with a free hand.
It's not that I'm helpless or in a rut, far from it. I am who I am, but I am also who I am known to be. Sadly, left brain and right brain activities are presumed to be mutually exclusive. Only geniuses and retirees are allowed to do both without raising suspicion, and I can lay claim to neither qualification.
It's just too complicated to say what I want to say about love, longing and loss. These are only slightly outpaced by what I'd like to say about fear, betrayal and hatred. Don't even get me started about sex and desire.
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