I see rumors of my absence have already fermented into mythology. How efficient. A few weeks without public correspondence and suddenly the walls begin whispering that I have perished, absconded, molted into something stranger, or finally been dragged screaming into the abyss by one aggrieved woman or another. I assure you, none of these things occurred. I simply grew bored of the noise. Chittr has always possessed the atmosphere of a casino moments before electrical failure. Everyone smiling too hard. Everyone watching everyone else through the corners of their eyes. Every statement inflated into prophecy or scandal by creatures desperate to feel history brushing against their cheeks. Delightful in moderation. Exhausting in excess. Still, absence creates appetites. I can see that now. The scavengers grew restless. The mourners rehearsed their eulogies before the corpse had cooled. Opportunists circled like carrion gulls over an ocean they mistook for blood. And yet here I remain. Intact. Immaculately dressed, as always. So let us dispense with the melodrama immediately. I did not return for forgiveness. I did not return for revenge. I did not return because I missed any of you. I returned because a stage left empty for too long invites terrible actors.
You weren't expected to.
was an7one sa7ing an7thing about 7ou? i (ertainl7 didn't see an7thing like that
You aren't privy to the many private messages of concern. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/acd93512e003.png
shit man i guess not