Of Epochs and Blog posts

'It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity."

Unbeknownst and benign, time flew like the senses of tree-lovers on a hazy night, dimmed with shades of purple and green within the confines of household plurality.
Or alike the strain of wrists as they toil over letters, punched in to craft work of varied degrees: equally wondrous or incoherent; the same destination but with different paths.
On occasion the mind shall stray, as it tends to do, and wander into thoughts of more delicate things, of porcelain and its commons, whether straight or curly like the waves of an ocean. Lost beneath the tide of flavour and swimming with anchovies, the myrrh of life has swept by in an unrelenting tirade of occupation.

And so has the time passed since the semester started, and since I last posted.