The wreath of red is the fire that surrounds us, the heat that encloses us and drives our own poisons back into ourselves. It is the pain that makes us dream the dream of life. This blog might be a chronicle of sparks and smoke, or just a story of the dream we are dreaming. We'll see.
Monday, January 28, 2008
getting closer to the actual internet
For now, I'm holding my place here, and maybe that's all I'll do. The wreath of red is the fire that surrounds us, the heat that encloses us and drives our own poisons back into ourselves. It is the pain that makes us dream the dream of life.
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