Dear Elpis,

I find that the cleaner my apartment is - the lonelier I feel. Something about the organized emptiness - the sterile smell of the cheap off brand chemicals.

I danced with the vacuum this morning - it had two left wheels - but I pretended not to notice. Though the broom got jealous, I danced. And it wasn't the dancing that made things clean - but the spinning of the way of the moving. The wirl wind of dirty spinning inside its core -

The First Post. . .

Quite honestly - I do not care if a single soul reads this. In fact, it would probably better if no one read this at all. In the sea of so many blogs and words, opinions and news, I can't imagine why someone would take the time to read my scribblings on this wall.

But Elpis urges me to keep my fingers dancing across the black plastic to form, or try to form something from the images and day dreams that keep me awake tonight. So, here it goes.

Dear Elpis,

This is the first night in a long time that you've given me something to lie awake at night about. It is a good feeling. I laid in bed drifting in and out of dream and consciousness, wondering if the girl that I had shared a simple cup of coffee with could be the person that I have been waiting for.

In between the dreams of my arm draped around her shoulders, snuggled deep into a blanket whispering, the conscious part of my brain kept on reminding me to slow down. To wait before calling her again. Saying that maybe she really just wants to catch up over coffee - that maybe she found you boring and uninspiring. Maybe her degree is out of your league.

But Elpis, I hang on to you - like I always have. And I appreciate you for it.