You start a conversation you can't even finish it
You're talking a lot, but you're not saying anything
When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed
Say something once, why say it again?
I see that as compared to 31 posts in January, I have eked out only 11 so far in May. This shouldn't surprise me--the light and life of impending summer always suppress the urge to write, just as they suppress melatonin. If I were to move to the tropics, a transition devoutly to be wished, the inclination to write might wither away altogether. Summer for me is for movement, love, and music, not so much for the logos.
So to my three (or is it four?) consistent readers, thank you for following. The blog is not ending, just entering a period of languor, to be furthered only when what passes for inspiration in my case strikes. As the pessimist says to himself when passing through a period of prosperity, this too shall pass.