I'm so glad I don't live there. Funny, everything happens where I am. Friends end up there. Life is the intersection of consciousnesses.
So I was thinking about asphalt, then, I thought, fuck asphalt. Hot, stinky, un-life-affirming things don't belong here, in this breezy, never-ranting blog, with the darting sparkly dragonflies, impeccable unicorns and tuned saxophones and captured UFOs and new pollen pills. (Pollen. Say it in your head for awhile, like 10 times... Is that even a word? Are they snowflakes that flowers make? Just a lusty sneeze waiting to happen? What is it thinking?)
Tonight's topic is make-believe. Like this word: Prenliscient - which means the 'propensity of moss to grow on the north side of trees.' Which I just totally made up, 'cause of shadiness and ulterior motives.
Not that there isn't a topic, just that its a free-form, pirate style. I can smell the sea shells, and feel the calluses of thousands of thrown fishnets, and sometimes break the crispy tang of salt-water on my drying skin. The sun has set, yet again.
Durd'n transmitted another burst as I stood there. It was easier to take than the first, because I'd been prepped a bit by the first.
My Security Team began moving back to the Tinglev.
The XO privated me that the repairs were ongoing, and without incident.
Then I fell into it all.
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