Is it dead, I wonder? I touch it craftily with a twig long enough to leave me at a safe distance away. It's not breathing, and surely I don't hear it beating. What is it anyway? or if you prefer in a different tone
What IS it? When this project began, it was more than co- it was many and the multitude has fallen away to show or to expose or to make vulnerable. For a while that was sort of fine, although the pseudo anti-technology person in me bristled a bit. I'd never start this on my own. And then I write, and am left with words and writing. They are usually my friends, but here they seem alien and divorced from myself, even and especially when they are intensely personal.
So the question lies:
Should I kill it?
Is it already dead?
Or do I need to find a way to express newly, differently, that makes sense here (and maybe only here?
