Tuesday, March 03, 2009


Its beautiful.


No its ugly.


No but I can see it.


It must be somwehere.


I will tell you the story, the story of my childhood, my birth and the story of nature.


It was beautiful.


The light, the anger, the resonance, the fire, it all came out from the centre of my sex.


It gave it all. The purple creatures, the green fish, the peeping wolves, the beautiful trees, the blue leaves and the orange sky. It was all a light, the light of life.


There was nature.


Then there was culture.


There was you and me.


There were owls and sages


The ages passed.

We watched.


The sages came and went.


There was a light.

The light of life.


It gave birth. The womb was moist and fluid. We floated and thrashed around. We laughed, we cried.


The light spread through my body, the body rocking on a rickety boat, flowating through the ocean of civilisations.


Mother nature was one, mother nature was us.


We saw it all. We watched. We came. We saw. We left.


The purple sun, the red gnome, he laughed at me.


The vortex.


The coma.