That one thing: there is no replacement for the pages of a book.  The tangible method.  Everything's in my hands and in no one else's eyes.  Sometimes we need that kind of privacy.  Other times we should shed ourselves of such thick skin.  I'm going half-in on this theory, for now.  Cryptic, you say.  Guarded, i reply.  For my own safety nonetheless.  But yeah, what's done is done i suppose.  I press on to do even more things.  "You're thinking too hard."  Why is that the phrase i keep hearing?  How does one think at such a convoluted level with such consistency? This is a much different venue, i notice.  I don't have the luxury of calling you "you" with much certainty.  The intangible method.  Either has its peaks and troughs-- go figure.