Monday, April 5, 2010

Three.

How absurd that a fireball sits in darkness, capable of burning my flesh and make it bubble like a pot of boiling water. How peaceful that a couple of ravens walk so calmly by my feet. How innocent of a blade of grass to catch a ladybug grazing the air. How beautiful I find an admitted theft.

The perfect life is to be born in time to appreciate complexity and connection, and to witness a cycles natural end.

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