I'm so fucking happy. And I mean that 196%. The remaining four percent I reserve for my morbid inherent depression (comes with the model); my fascination with the perverse (She taught me to love it, Jael); my deep despair in the state of the world (not the universe, the universe -- like it or not -- is cool); and "other." "Other" being the Mystery, for which I reserve awful amounts of respect.
What more can I say?
To paraphrase my friend Diana (Now-My-Character-Is-Going-to-Kiss-Your-Character Diana), paraphrasing our friend, or hero? Walt Whitman:
Do I contain multitudes? Very well then;
I contain multitudes.
That's how I heard it from the cosmos.
There's a rain storm, a thunder storm, here in Houston, Texas. Thunder over Lightning. It's not frightening.
It's like Thunder (Thunder), Lightning (Lightning).
The way you love