I'm looking out over the river. Opposite, I can see M16, to my left M15, and fancy flats on the river. I am lurking on a legal discussion board, because I keep posting about the clunge of some silly creature in whom I unloaded. (I asuume, btw, there is no censorship here, but I shall soon find out.) I am tired, but curiously peaceful. I am going out later. It will be passable. I am wearing trousers from Joseph and a Paul Smith shirt. I look okay. How does one convey intellect, tone, timbre, style, panache, elan with the written word when one is typing nothing into nothingness to no-one?

Not. Like.
This.
I; suppose.

That was a bit GM Hopkins? I thought"