Dear Diaryland,

The world is a strange, strange place. I miss you lots, and this you know. That last line rhymed in my mind, but no music plays here. I think. Maybe I embedded some midi nonsense once upon a time which no longer plays. Adam West has disappeared. I'll rectify that.

What I do now: I draw a lot. People give me money for it. It makes me happy. I pick blackberries. I wander the fields. Sadly, no longer with Poopy. But, there are other puppies in my life. I go to the seaside.

Sometimes I think about the people I used to know here and wonder what they're doing now. I see a few people on my list still update, but they're all password protected diaries.

I loved you all. In my own distant, erratic way.