Last night, I dreamt that I was in a great struggle against a mighty wind. There was something supernatural, movie/comic-booky about it, it was clearly no ordinary wind and no ordinary struggle. The battle involved every square inch of my body, both within and without; every last bit of my soul; absolutely everything that I was.
"Victory" was not an option; the wind was too strong. To survive was the only victory possible.
Yet somehow, survive I did. And the wind subsided, and I looked about me, and I recognized nothing; all I recognized was that nothing was the same.
And then, two words, and only two words, came to me:
"Now what?"
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
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