I don't write those wildly ornate tangles of words any more. Perhaps it is because my life is no longer wildly tangled, my desire no longer breathing me like an animal, my doubt no longer wrapping its tentacles around my throat. I find myself embracing simplicity. Generating words that mean what they mean, in shadow or in light, having finally slipped out from under the requirement of subterfuge. It is a blessing, it is a relief. A liberation of the highest order. Mahalo. Mahalo. Om.