That’s about it for this blog.

If I return, then I will, without much fanfare.  But with over two years of my time, over one hundred pieces of writing, and with nothing progressing from this point, I believe my efforts here are finished, and largely, have met their end.

That’s not to say that it has all been a waste of time; in fact, I know that it hasn’t been.  I redeveloped a hobby and a craft that I hadn’t explored in years, I dissected topics that I wouldn’t have otherwise considered noteworthy, I loved sharing my ideas on subjects far and wide, and I created some pieces of writing that, with all modesty shoved to the side, I feel were rather wonderful. I’m proud of those ones.  

However, what’s the point?

I know who reads here.  I check my stats pretty regularly, and I know that people venture here from all over the world: literally, from Canada to Australia to Fuck Knows Where in the horrendous Middle East.  I know there are constant and ongoing readers–lurkers, I guess–ranging from places such as Northern England nightmares to obscure German villages to well-known cities in the USA.  In fact, there was this one occasion just around the turn of the new year where someone spent, seemingly, the entire day going through more than fifty of my essays.  

But do I get any new subscribers?

Feedback?

Comments?

Supporters?

I do not.

And therefore, after a couple of years of serious toil here, I’m bowing out. I’ve put in my time and words unless or until I feel I want to post something.  

(Thank you to James in Portland for always, always being a staunch supporter since the inception of this blasted thing, and the most deserved honourary Doukhobor I could think of.)

This one’s to all of you, because sooner or later, we’re all going to get shot multiple times in the torso–literally or figuratively.  

Swoop, swoop

Oh baby, rock rock  

Love

Nadya