The sun announced itself, godlike and golden. Flakes of snow sail past the window unhurried. The view from this window is that of timelessness; without a technological contraption or any man-made material object in sight. There are just naked trees in deep slumber, dreaming.
I fall through pages of political chaos and corruption. I fall through fruitless conversations and semantics, irreconcilable -isms, and political half-truths. I don't think I have anything to give to such. I see fascism, intolerance, even hatred. I see the other side of the isle succumbing into a totalitarian fever dream. I see both ends of the spectrum attempting to force a model of what to think and how to live on me. No, you don't get to do that. I see here reenacting and evoking something that should remain unearthed. The demons of yesteryear, that is. I see terrible oversimplification of multifaceted issues.
And, I feel it again. The ghosts of dolphins, the needle, the twin lakes, and the white water.
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