I thought I could turn my back on this site, abandon it so to speak to wild monkeys to pillage and plunder and move on with my life. It's turning out to be harder than I thought. There is something more to it than I can put my finger on.



In the fourth Harry Potter book, Harry finds himself in the Headmaster's Office surrounded by magical paraphernalia and other such gadgetry but what draws his attention above all that is a bowl full of a liquid, which in my mind must have looked like mercury. Anyway, it turns out it's a pensieve, a device used to extract thoughts so the owner can examine them in a better light. This site has somehow become my pensieve, even though I have been limited by what can be posted here. Work has become off limits and over time my personal life seems to have as well.



What this means, I have no idea. Part of me wants to move on, while another is holding back. Holding onto something that I can't achieve, something that I can't let go of even if I should.