In my twelfth (who's counting) unheralded and unasked for triumphal return to my primordial state I welcome thee one and all in, in reality the potential non-plurality of our tenebrous and ultimately existential form of expressional angst has left me wholly bereft of that artistic wonk that was once my particular wont, given me wholly over to the recourse of, as the french say, "qu'est ce que tu veux j'te dis", and mostly non-plussed at the prospect of actually researching the definition of the words and concepts both philosophical, literary, and scientific [que] which I invoke at will and whimsy, and really the reality of it all has really become too much to bear in my advanced old age and so I say simply: "hello" to those who remember me regardless of residual emotional context.
I trust that was superficially hyperbolic enough for me to have established my credentials. So Hello. Hi. You've all met me at a very strange time in my life. And I'm glad.
.... in an ever-increasingly-esoteric style the artist distanced himself from any recognition.....
FBM back yet?
