self-potrait

There are no solid lines, everything is fuzzy. As I think this I remind myself that this is nothing more then a philosophical prejudice. My life is a sketch that is becoming more and more defined everyday (I wish that that were refined). The lines that I refuse to see are starting to show. Stagnation is bound to set in sooner or latter. Why the change in blogger tone? I've slowed to a more leisurely genial pace than normal. I have a tendency to ape whomever I'm reading. I'm usually more conservatively absurd than this. Got to hold on for one last sentence.