As we flip thru page to page, day to day, action to reaction, what is it exactly that we do, and to what extent? How fragile IS the surface we scratch upon, and how will IT, as well as WE withstand the test of time itself? Who knows.

Eventually, we become exactly that which is of our choosing, for this is what one, possesses. All we need do is release the force that drives us. That in turn breaks the chains that bind. All things are within reach. All things have possibilities of being possessed. All with the same goal in mind: COMPLETION. So, onward our travels will bring us to pages to come. EMPTY PAGES. Could we ask for anything more? That alone gives our ramblings the opportunity to echo within time and space. For what is life without nourishment? A pretty bland dish.

FEED THE SOUL