Wednesday, October 01, 2003


only most desperate search and contain. the 'people' arise in voter popular. they let light into a room and say plainly, my heart aches and a dazzling smoothness hears my plaint. it was a woods on fire, smartly reprogrammed like napalm(r). how irresistible was the plan? the aliens could only observe, taking notes in whatever way they are trained. the 'people' find out some simple rhythms have goofed effect. the 'people' have truckled with the wrong tool, and awakened very tired. it is the sapping of night winds, those desert winds so fed and binding. the 'people' feel other notions must be contended, and the aliens can't or won't dissuade. talk has become associative, with little hope for 'proof'.

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