I trust you didn't actually think I was going to end this exercise on that note.

I do owe some explanation, I realise, for the apparent abandonment of what was once my most treasured creation. But it's precisely because spelling this out is so difficult that I've been putting off a return. On reflection, a fair amount has happened since I last visited. There were waves of self-doubt on untold of scales, a bizarre return to the savage lands that caused me untold grief, and a painful extrication from what I once considered a friendship.

I hope to say more of each of these in time, but I suspect it's that last one that has partly contributed to a drying up of writing. Not that it wounded me so as to render me incapable of measured thought; rather, it angered me so much that I don't think I can do justice to that feeling. I know, I know, there's no doubt value in trying to approach all of this dispassionately again, and get to the root of things. But rest assured, this anger is very localised, and in no risk of engulfing my everyday thought. I actually go through days in relative peace, for reasons I shall perhaps detail some other time (and which perhaps also explain why I haven't felt the urge to visit sorrow's child as much). I have to really concentrate to tap into the bottomless fury that came with my last attempt at warmth being returned with apathy.

When it's summoned, of course, it takes a little while to die down. But time does not bother me as much these days.