mmmmcxcix

I Do Go On
(part one of a bit of an explanation
on intent and process)

Sometimes I feel the need to explain myself. But in
this ~4,200 page universe, that seems to me to be
counterintuitive. And now, sonnets have invaded this 

ongoing, longstanding, never-ending bunfight that

surely seems a buffet of mostly self-absorbed spectacle. 

Be that as it may, yours truly, a scribbler of lists and 

other sheafs of word-junk, uses them to form an elong

ated semi-random diaryesque mishmash of blobs of

stuff pieced together in ways that the author of all of this 

mess deems worthwhile, important (at least to him). And

yet I then send them out into the world. So they must also 

be intended for you. But why and how? Also, why these 

endless sonnets? But I was really going to talk process,
so...this is to be continued.... (See what I did there?)