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My first node was a bit of semi-lucid meandering prose from a very intense mood on a lunch break at my first warehouse job, after listening to all sorts of supernatural ideas from a Discworld audiobook and spilling it all. A kind editor helped me improve the flow and grammar of my node, but never tried to steer it, to take over where it would go or what it would contain. My second first node was a since-deleted oversharing hate-gush of my personal drama that marked some of the most intense emotional months that i had ever braced in my life. Had a lot of hurt inside and pointed it at these uninvolved people, aimed at the innocent -- and they chose to help me through it. Relationships, accusations, drastic decisions, dense with stupid modern troubles, my know-nothing ass was learned by this community into slow growth. It probably freaked everyone out, but I'm grateful. And it's the most honest I've ever felt. In a sense, people who have never seen my face are closer to my life than any social media user on a platform fancy enough to have its own intelligent-telephone application.

I initially came here for the poetry. Filed beautifully among the facts and mundane, surprising and uplifting, and crammed amongst tips for how to use some kind of computer-machine instruction program better. Fictions and essays that fed the good old skull meat. And wisdom, often from those who earned it the hardest ways. Showed up here with scribbled drafts; E2 makes me believe in art.