to begin...

emotional distress has always led me to mental disorder. my brain gets distracted by the strangest diversions and my thoughts seem impossible to organize. or even maintain, for that matter. threads get frayed and ends unravel. the days dissolve one into the other. it's exhausting simply to get through the 24 hours without accidentally using ky as mascara-remover, or to make sure i get on the train indeed going in the direction of my destination.

brain research shows that, like any other muscle, unless its exercised often it becomes less elastic and begins a sorry descent into atrophy. for maintaining mental alacrity, verbal sparring has always been my favorite activity, but my most treasured partner in that is currently m.i.a. reading has always been a voracious pleasure, but my concentration now fails after just a few pages. so we go to number three on the list -- writing. i've decided i'll dive into this pool of self-indulgence floating in the ether, and see if i can retrain my slowing brain to pick back up the pace.

bear with me as i noodle through the formatting and coding here. salonierres don't easily thrive in this tech-driven world.