another year is marked and a new one has begun, i feel as old as the rust on the first blade ever made, i give thanks for my life but not my fortune, it is what i made it while i was preoccupied with someone else, so its a lil' tattered and worse for wear, but the bastard survives, sometimes it feels like i could almost love again, back to the salt mines where i cut blocks of salt for the heathens to cure their pork with, i spent all my free time today just hangin' around this site and making comments whenever i wasn't committing some type of crime that your parents lose sleep over, four decades and still busy as ever, sometimes it really feels like 50,000 years... 