while I show them why plagiarism ....

Svp, I don't want to hear plagerism and O.V.'s work in the same sentence ever again. Not giving another second of my time to such banal insults slung your way. Finished, over, all behind us now. I got it instantly what you were doing. I adored the generosity of it, the egolessness and the intelligent management of all that went on around you. You have a rare ability (and if you allow me a moment of sexism) for a man to be very good at multi-tasking, switching and interpreting nuance. For an engineer, to boot! You may call yourself a social beast, and that is nice and simple. But you also have earned credit on a more sophisticated front. I've tried and tested you plenty, up to Greek reference works! So teacher may praise the pet.

Lord only knows , I spent a few months hoping there were more Steemians who operated like you so that I might come to believe in Steem, too. It would not be easy to bring me round to liking much of anything around here, but a job's a job. The downfall of Steemit will be a lack of promoting the world around this platform and everybody sucking everything up for their desperate selves. There are some good and honest people here I worry about. Some homesteaders especially. I was hoping we'd all be in to hooking up with other creatives not necessarily on steem, but the FB vibe here won't be having any of that. Tried looking farther abreast for things to pull here to put something sane in these folks' brains. No result. Am I bothered?

We saw it all before we came. We've seen it all before. And we know what we have not come for: to steam up ahead at any cost.

For what it is worth, I found you played a most noble game holding your own. Clearly you intimidated by impeccability which is never laid out on display (that is why I'm saying it so you don't have to) and is not meant to be flawless (we get frustrated). Your generosity and caring attracts people who are low-energy without them knowing why. Like two year olds push their mummies and run away because they want to be caught. This is just another manifestation of the power of soul peetering out in the people. A spluttering last impulse to save themselves from the hellfires they are playing with. They don't know they are doing that, but I got to watch this from a safe distance. They see the facade of however we present ourselves (and you did so laudably in pigeon and growl and pecks at nasty fingers) exactly what they need to see. They cannot handle more. It is time to find a way to elevate ourselves. It actually is quite urgent that we do. But how? That's what my writings her now aim to explore.

Polly put the kettle on and Suki has come to take it off again. Together we stand in this kitchen. It's time to make a cup of tea and sit by the dock of the bay and watch the tide roll in.

We are a bit through with charity work.
We are used to being used (oh, lovely wordy). Being a part of Steemit is being used, and so be it. We are not "users-back". We stand our own ground, always have, always will. But it can't be done entirely alone. Probably a tough competition between us who is the greater Einzelgänger, and it may be no compliment to win it, so I'll put myself forward. And still the willingness to cooperate from such a beast prooves we believe still - despite truckloads of manure tipped onto our lives - in something bigger than ourselves.

Ever more frequently, I get this feeling I don't think it is possible for me to do much more of anything on the web. Sounds absurd considering what I do all day, but it is not a personal preference it's a deep calling to something else. Maybe follow Diederot, after all? (and buy a windmill).

What you might not be acutely aware of is something nonetheless what you are intuitively sailing by. That is all that matters. I have spent all day (after a weird night of constant promptings out of the whereever) pondering the gift that these weeks have been. How they "fell on my foot" merely by gradually accepting, in that tall order of good faith (one scoop ontop of trust), that I must listen only to my intuition. One then leaves the poker table behind and steps into a very peculiar, but special, and precious place. Whatsmore, uncannily familiar around every turn of the way. Don't know what that phenomenon is. It's a little more taxing than déja vû. And all this happening here. Ha! Using Steemit after all. Winner takes all.

As you may have gathered - or at least intuited - I don't have anything to say here either way, not for me personally. I take no joy in being part of Steemit and have zero ambitions of being well liked as a writer (I couldn't even fall into a category: entertainers, informers, influencers, just waving at the camera).

It is my studio because you made it so. I don't know why, I just experience it thus. I have to see where this extends to. Would I now, today, after these weeks still be here if you left? It is like asking can plants grow without sun? Yes, artificial light. Oh yummy, the little peppers and tomatoes cry, slup, slurp, delicious, how happy we grow. I don't know, what I will "be told" to do (intuition does that: suddenly command you to do so and so. I compromised a while back, giving up draining battles trying to conserve my reserves with the motto: you can tell me what to do, but not what to think. Intuition never thinks for you.) I do know I won't like it, and that's quite something for a gal trained in having no-preferences. We'll have to make a suicide pact when the time comes! That's a plan!

I have come to appreciate, and it's obvious now I look back, that none of my time here would have been possible without you. I was about to leave (no sooner had I arrived, practically) when I was reminded of the Ark in the attic..... that very peculiar purchase I made at the library ten years prior. I said to my Intuition, you've got to be kidding me. I can't show a childrens'book to a man in who thinks he is Odin in battle mask (little did I know about you or the non-mask...!) But I wasn't allowed to think about it. I was told to do. And here we are now. Tea bags in the pot.

You strengthen me and/or my purpose to remain strong. The pictures that are formed by the simple things you say help me in ways I cannot explain. It would take a week of silently sipping tea without budging from the deckchair for me to hope to ever make sense to you. (Ouch the poor back....)

Needless to say, what I have created here is my own bloody engine room. One can only keep coming down here for so long, we both see that.

I'm telling you, we need a plan. You one, me one, we one.... some kind of plan. Nobody around here has a plan. Dr. Zima would not approve....