It certainly is. I can see where the information is partial, incomplete. And at the same time deeply personal and private, elements even of my inner life written out on the page, when thoughts are usually ones own, to share or not.
Thank you for your reciprocity. If you see me in short sleeves or none at all, that is where the scars around my wrists came from. And my veins run silver from surviving the attempt at my mind. [...] People where I am from knew of neighboring worlds. The walls were closed, had been closed, for centuries. But it would have made you more an intense curiosity than anything else, if they thought you were from one of them. And here, we all must keep that sort of secret from those not on this network.
I cannot say I am sorry that he has passed on. I was banished from London shortly thereafter, and life at sea did release me from his grip. And my life has been my own.