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epistle log 20entysometing
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i discovered recently that the entire epistle log site fits on a single 3.5" floppy disk. sobering, really, yet terribly convenient, as i’ve been carrying this project in my pocket for the past months, tweaking, twiddling, expanding, and generally sinking time. my love for making a much bigger deal out of everything than is really necessary lead to this web site, and is now leading to this sub-project: the summer of my introspection.
it must be something in the air of summer, of the long days and restless nights, that always draws my mind to not just peek over its shoulder, but to sit down facing backwards and regress a bit. trips down the dusty archives of memories more fiction than fact plague the restless time of watching the ceiling fan stir the night air enough to remind you how hot you could really be. these trips, not solely nocturnal, arrest me constantly, shuttering my eyes momentarily as i fall through nostalgia and hit the present in an instant. just today as i stepped from the shower i remembered how i, as i child, secretly believed that i could see light move. i could sit and watch what i thought to be little particles of light zoom past me to my solitary delight.
such are summers, so different from all other time, but different in more than a seasonal change. and so the eLog undergoes its second summer, the last being so consumed that i managed a mere five entries, largely the work of two days’ feverish activity. this summer i undertake this new project and take the eLog in a new direction, momentarily. this summer i began an open dialogue with the logs, adding ideas and phrases and structure bit by tiny bit, constantly re-arranging and beginning anew. the eLog has been always instantaneous and absolute, but the summer has elongated and softened it. this new flexibility has completely changed the nature of the composition of the logs, but hopefully the teleological structure of the project as a whole is not lost. the means are radically different, but (hopefully) the end remains the same. whatever that may be.
and here the cycle begins again, of creation and destruction, until the arbitrage frees the project along the trunk lines of eternity and immortality.
consider this an open parenthesis, an open quote, and open end
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