“a postulation on the transient nature of self”
a colony
prescribed by the hand of time
ordered into the womb of god
delivered
and so you are
notes… sometimes things pop in my head, I could tell you I am not religious because I am not, but does that mean I do not believe in something higher… how can we just be dropped here right now on this little marble in the middle of supreme vastness ? sure, it could all be random, but I would rather think a hand is moving things behind the scenes, I’m probably wrong, so what… in the end it does not matter, so I choose to believe my life has meaning…
Shades of My Garden 