Enough of this.

After looking through this, I decided that there was altogether too much negativity, and it's growing like a tumor through the later entries. This isn't how this blog was supposed to turn out. And, as it happens, Mohan had something to say about it. He asked me. I answered.

"I don't know what to say anymore. It's like the microphone is melting in front of my face. You don't see it, but it's there. Or it's not. I don't know."

"You're ending every sentence-- paragraph-- lately like that. 'I don't know, I don't know.' What do you know? Don't say nothing. That's bullshit. What do you know?"

"I know about rocks. No, wait, that's not me. I know about the sky. You see faces in the clouds, sometimes. Some people take things to make them see the faces clearer. I know that some people eat fungus to play up their subconscious."

"Don't fall into self-pity, now. That's not what this is about, and I've had enough of your whining about seeing things. You see me, don't you?"

"Well, I hear you."

"Exactly. Is that so bad? Am I such a terrible friend?"

"No. You're the best friend I've ever had, for all your crazy ways. We should start writing again."

"Anytime, once we get this thing sorted out. You need to finish up school, you know. I wish you didn't, but like it or not, there's things you have to learn. People... you have to deal with people, that's more what this is about. You have to do this."

"Okay. I know that. I just wish I didn't. When are you going to start sending me lines again? I want to see more than just cliffs, I miss the skies and the mountains. I escape there, sometimes."

He smiles. "I know. When this is all finished, we'll start writing again. Drake has more maps, and David has been talking about his journey, and we have to get your anatomy straightened out, too. It'll be fun, this summer. You'll see."