Pause

You have to think about things before you can write them down. I haven't been thinking about things so much, so I haven't written anything in particular. But I will again rise from these clammy waters to stand once more beneath mud-stained skies, and look, far, for you. Because you know I haven't given up, and I cannot disappoint you. I cannot let a little thing like death stay my hand. Nor shall I. My hand will again know your flesh.