of tin cans and twine

my internet's broke.

i sit here, perched, hardly breathing, willing my tenuous hold on this bit of the interwebs to hold for the briefest of moments; my pc card cobbling my connection to the rest of the webs like it's made of duct tape, twine and tin cans.

two days of radio silence. no email, no tv, my escape into books. i'm riding the waves of unknown seas, weaving spells of magic, forging new lives on the frontier, tedious parlor games, intrigue and love spoken in a glance. the hours pass by; i've forgotten to eat.

how many times can i re-read the same books? or continue to be enthralled by new ones?

again and again and again.