This post

Imagine a place where the half-hearted, half-finished, half-processed blog posts go to. A sort of limbo for the incorporeal, orphaned transcripts of a million thoughts of a million people, another million being entered every second. It'd be a cold place, abundant with feelings akin to shame and insipidity and jadedness and laziness, all carefully acid-washed with vapidity, jejune in their desolate immaturity. A post that was almost never made, or a post that was almost made, multiplied countless times for the countless people in the world. The only conflict would be that between the senses of opportunity and abandonment, of the taxidermal landscape, with hope smack in the middle. It is lucky then that blog posts have no feelings.  

"So if the feeling is transient, does that mean it doesn't count?"

"Wait..I know the answer."