My blog, much like a Victorian laboratory, is in a constant state of chemical upheaval.

One day it’s a minimalist shrine to clarity; the next it’s been wallpapered in fonts only visible to owls. Posts mutate without warning—yesterday’s profound essay on urban alienation now ends with a recipe for lentil curry and a haiku about pigeons.

Categories multiply like bacteria, and the tag cloud has developed its own weather system. Readers brave enough to return often wonder if they’ve taken a wrong turn into someone else’s nervous breakdown.

“Ah,” I say, hunched over the backend like a deranged alchemist, “I’ve added a new widget. It randomly deletes adjectives.” Comments appear in Latin. The RSS feed cackles.

And yet I carry on, goggles fogged, cursing CSS gremlins and feeding fresh thoughts into the bubbling cauldron. Someday, it will all make sense.

Possibly after I’m dead. Or drunk.