VISITATION I: Ink Before Dawn

The first entries always feel like intrusions, don’t they?
A page that has never known words is like a locked room, too quiet, too still. Once you scratch the surface, though, the silence never quite returns.

I don’t call this a “blog.” That word is too bright, too clean.
Here, in the Visitations, I’ll leave fragments: whispers from the books I’m writing, obsessions that won’t let go, questions that gnaw in the walls at night.

If you’ve found your way into the Sanctum, you’re already one of mine.
Stay a while. Read what’s left behind. And when you leave, don’t be surprised if something follows you.

“Ink is cheaper than therapy, but far more dangerous.”