I bought Way Out West's album Intensify after all. I'm listening to it as I'm ircing. I said that at times like this, I realise why I'm Pluto, the most distant and smallest of them all. And then you said you're the moon. Somehow somewhere you dug up another of those obscure links you're so good at locating and sent it to me. So many beautiful words to reaffirm my faith and feeling about writing, whether you realised it or not. And you asked if I'm still flying aimlessly. I replied yes, I'm still hovering round cos I have no permission to land. You said isn't it tiring? I answered, is there a choice?