No, my fellow citizens of blogland, I haven't forgotten you. But between not being able to access the 'net at work anymore, and my boss being out all last week, I've been busy, frazzled, and fried.
I'll try to come up with something lovely and/or profound to post soon. Meanwhile, have some old poetry. From the Spring of 1997:
"You are meant for other things.
Your destiny lies elsewhere.
So it is now, and so it has always been.
My destiny has always been elsewhere.
Voices speak in troubled sleep.
I cannot understand.
These are days of turmoil.
My dreams are put aside for now.
I am a wanderer,
and must be true to my Gypsy blood.
Spirits of Nature, do not forsake me.
I become as fragmented as you,
as drifting, as insubstantial.
I resent my dreams, for
they make me dissatisfied with drifting.
I shall ever drift
on a storm-swept sea,
with no anchor
and no port in sight,
for my destiny lies elsewhere.