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why when captured by your gaze do all thoughts retreat from my mind. artifice and pretense melt away revealing truths both unseen and unspoken. i am left without words. may i know you better?

The last thing that I ever thought I would be posting about is Donation Fraud, but circumstances demand otherwise...

"We’ve also faced intense criticism and even personal attacks against a number of Automatticians from members of the “community” who want Matt and others to step away from the project," writes Automattic on their official blog.

Moving house is an odd thing, even when that house turns out to be a virtual one.

Back in the days of yore, when Facebook hadn't even been a twinkle in Zuck's eye, blogs ruled what existed of the Web.

[In the style of the Gunpowder Plot Rhyme] Oh why, oh why, the 4th of July, Remember, remember, the 5th of November, A mandate the Tories have not.

The sweat tastes of her salt, of course, but also of the chalk that dusts her palms.

Sometimes, the writing can scare me.

Past Imperfect — a nostalgia for a time as flawed as our own but without the awareness that tarnishes the now.

I find it hard to disengage for the sake of silence.