I want to pick up the pen and draw a picture. Picture of an earth compartmentalized into dry lands called continents. I’m particularly interested in a little subsection within one of those compartments. That’s my homeland, …. Somewhere in the far north of this land I was born as a result of a biological urge. Maybe a preprogrammed plan to be carried out by an amature group consisting of a couple! As of the etiology of this urge: it has been called the original sin and remains the everlasting curse!
What was she doing there? I think she was giving birth to an art work….
I thought it took two to make things! But, she was alone and it was cold out there.
"It’s a very interesting artwork," I commented.
"You should tell it to the shop owner. He is sometimes too worried about it," she replied.
Deli and beverages…. Cookies and coffees and the rest was abstraction and delicate work of art….
But, what was I doing there? A gas station in Alameda…. That’s true, I had gone to Lake Thunderbird for canoeing and I biked my way back to home. It was nice!
What is life? A series of discrete events that hopefully one day we can make sense of?
-from simetime ago
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