Dear Night Owl, if they, the little runners posting up our posts in the machine world are keeping the same time we are then I am losing track of time because I have the feeling I was here 8 hours ago (edit: it is now 12 hours ago - I told you before writing a humble reply to you takes a special kind of time). It feels as if I read your reply before turning in... (Ha rather, turning and turning and turning, but I found the 2.30 hours in the end that would make the military proud. Now it's waiting to go mad.)

I knew you had a plan. The voices I use are gold plated.

Under the shower, where hearing becomes very selective, last night I heard: there is an email address, isn't there, somewhere? I couldn't recall at all ever having filed one away, but my planning head thought, first, let's have that at hand. How to go about that with both of us fairly security neurotic? It went about itself.

I don't think I ever "fished" it up before I went fishing (I would have made a note of it, knowing me, and maybe I did, but "we" have been such an ocean apart from the onset, which I left very organic, without any rigorous filing. That has now changed with an file for "Replies" now keeping track. Us as a project had the very same plan, from both sides of this "what-could-have-been-platform". It seems the task at hand now is to trace where that plan stems from, only then will we know what we really want and need to do.

So far, in a way, the Us Project is going according to plan, in accordance with our plans, which seem to have no life in them without a collaboration. I will analyse the data where we ever doubted that, because it indicates weak patches in a firewall around a connection that is not so simply determined by a cut and dry field. We are not in a tennis match. Valuable data by which to better project future planning.

I am even less sure than before, that steem-connections can have much significance at all, because of the medium. Something very concrete has to connect on another level besides. A holiday to Thailand cannot suffice to strengthen such connect. It works well in a corporate or academic setting to have conferences and establish networks, but in our current world you are a brash propodeutic student to believe it can have any meaning in your life.

Now if there is one thing the Poet has ever done for me, was teach the difference between significance and meaning. He used the example of how a teacosy which is retrieved from the rubble after a house had collapsed, could have great significance to the grandfather looking for his wife, but it carries no meaning. (Yes, I could have just stayed in the classroom with him for all that he ever did for me.) All poetry is meaning by virtue of its self-made contextworld. Within that world there are signifiers expounding that.

On the other hand the plan is still missing something (like sleep). It needs to relax into something or there won't be any more midnight oil left. That is probably down, largely, to a matter of time-will-tell, and knowing our sprightly stars, probably sooner than later. I don't know when, but it could be a useful next step that I drop you a line either via some old facebook account - which is a bit of a hassle to dig up, definitely likely to complicate things with whatever I still have on there, and will be under what name I don't know. It will be obvious to you, because I have no lies-to-self just theatre productions. Email is therefore simpler, but that would have to be my day-to-day account, since logging into any of the others used by former projects is going to do my head in (passwords, confirmations, and new buttons to press). And be advised my mail seems to not arrive upon occasion or what I rather presume is: end up in your spam folder. (what does that say in a world of all-meaning!?). My son explains this inconvenience as a Chinese buy-up issue and recommends I change providers. But let's not complicate the system in my brain at the minute.

I am curious to hear your "voice" at a different amplification and discover a comfortable setting with slightly more definition. And I am much in need of shorter, quicker, convenient-direct-time, conversational exchanges which can even better overlay and weave into a post. This is helpful and at times critical for people who have much incoming on various levels, to help filter which channel is the one you want me to read most clearly. Which actually brings us to another thing the Poet taught me (my, was he ever a teacher): never to read a man between the lines. No. Best not in his case: a lot of perverse and traumatised scribbling there he didn't want read. Too late, it came automatically to me even as a very green 24 year old. Did it matter? (I wasn't blinded by love, at least we can say that. It's worse: I walked in with my eyes wide open. This can't be so, I said to myself looking around his dimly lit heart. How at 53 can what you are still be there but not unpacked yet? Well, now we are aroud 53 ourselves, we know how that can be.)

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I cannot figure out who this Lynds is. Even my looking behind the scenes (who voted when) does not clarify for me who she might be.

I have outlined (for myself so far) what souls I am able to curate (in the metaphysical sense) via this medium. The pickings are few, the going slow. It would be a huge gain to curate creative efforts (which curate in turn the artist's soul); but I don't know about you, but I am maybe not old enough to be patient with the level and intent of soul out here, or too old to be of any used to it. I came here boldly, nothing to loose, with the right mind to insist I be heard for a change. Have them come to me with serious intent to listen or not come at all. I am tired of dumbing down, catering, teaching. I need nothing from nobody. I expected no new audience with such a high bar set ( a barricade to it indeed). Making me wonder how I suddenly found myself here (as if I had a gun pointed at my head) and next how long I would stay. There you instantly popped up giving me no choice to turn about on my heels. I thought I was leaving a last token of support on your doorstep in my reply to your music video . Had you not changed tack on that day, I would not have replied at all (to your steemit/cryptocoin/blockchain tagged messages).

Round 3 boils down to absolutely nothing but you, your plan, or the plan between us. This comes entirely unexpected. Something I did not see, I saw idyllwild in a bit of a spot (during dinner); I saw kimberlylane at 11.11; I knew for sure soyrosa was still here; and sina has a typical locus-function to anchor it all to a larger world (a very different world that is very real too).

You were not even packed away between malloryblythe and red-white-blue. Whose presence is out in the real world on a morphogentic field. Soul connections are made in the weirdest and seemingly meaningless ways and it is important to know what to archive and what to sever and what to give a tug at every now and then - is the balloon still there. They have no other significance to me personally. You had already moved into a different window all of your own. Curtain shut, leaving you to get on with what you do best, fall, get up, dust yourself down, crack the back and get back in the saddle.

I had "forgotten" about you - not as a person, but as a presence on Steemit. Which is remarkable because you are barely a person, but a collection of data, if you look at it sensibly. Of course, I look at it with another eye, aswell. Whenever I forget something, and I am not referring to the vast amounts of knowledge lost over the past few years, causing me some concern about the quality of my cerebreal arteries, it is for a reason. Or you will never find out that you forgot it. Besides you are hardly the type to fit through the seive.

There are others who keep muttering in my head, but I am slowly managing to get them to leave the party and usher them out of the door of my head, which feels like a tremendous relief. I am out of carrying power.

While pondering the meaning of life on Steemit, or Steemit in anyone's life, in the meantime, the inquiry into the possibilities of Steemit have garnered a significance, like a crystallisation in the heart, around you. This was always going to be a major tipping point, anywhere, anyhow, any place. Considering foremost how I am a workhorse meant to draw a plough for meaning to grow.

What exactly supports any meaningful relationship here is communion, that interaction which extends into real life. It is possible to lift souls off the page here and share a morphogenetic field with them (tried and tested) but it bore no significance to my personal life. The extent to which you are present in my personal space is now beyond the call of duty (which normally means to up my research to the next level). It is now falling into that broken down oldsmobile of personal preference. We enter a most sacred domain.