I miss so much, things I didn't expect.

I miss not being able to steal the covers.

I miss checking in when I'm going to be late.

I miss having to consider more than just my schedule.

And I miss the things I knew I would.

I miss her voice, her touch, her weight in my bed.

I miss the presence in our home which makes it more than a cave.

But I would miss more the experience she can share.  I would miss the growth.

A flower cut can only wilt, but a wild rose will bloom so brilliantly that its memory brightens the world even when it's out of view.

Open Letter #2: Defining "love"

Well, I've written a second open letter, this time under my nom de plume.  I sent it by e-mail and won't be posting it here.

If you didn't get it, but want to, e-mail me.

Underhill (dot) Alexander (at) Gmail (dot) com

This address should only be used for writing-related stuff, not personal stuff or work stuff.

Please forgive the obfusucated e-mail address, but I'm trying to avoid automated e-mail mining bots.


I recently came to the conclusion that psychiatry is not, by definition, suicide.  I have an appointment on thursday to see if my primary Dr. will work with me or if I'm going to a specialist.


I haz a new monitor.  It is shiny.

It's one of these.  I didn't pay nearly MSRP for it.  My old 17" trinatron is going out so I got the upgrade.  Big upgrade.  wow.  I'm gunna go watch some heroes now.

Edit:  Very shiny.  I can actually see what's going on in the dark parts of the show now.  Also, it takes some really bad speakers for me to be able to tell they're bad inside of 5 seconds.  I have my old speakers hooked up again.



I nearly lost it today.  I nearly started loving.

Point of philosophy:  Does it matter where emotions come from?  I think it must; nobody wants to love a lie.