Ah... the many sinuous winding's of life, the convoluted twists and turns of the serpent, half in and out of view, materializing and dematerializing, from one form to the next, each of them in temporary composition of that radiant energy, composed of it and animated by it. We view the transitory nature of existence upon the dream web. We attempt to interpret and to calculate it according to the registrar of the senses. They are the windows of experience, through which everything is, imperfectly, labeled and defined. The whole of it is no more than weaving smoke, shifting from one temporary presentation to the next.

My heart aches for humanity, forever building and tearing down, in pursuit of that perfect residence, formed ever nearer to the heart's desire and never arriving there... sand trickling through their hands, sands that were once cultures and continents and countries, now vanished forever more. Up it all goes and down it all goes. We wander and we wonder what and who we were before. We know the meaning of nothing and yet we have placed such value on it. It grieves us to lose any part of it and we lose all of it, over and over and over again. Why can't we remember who and what we were before? How can we not know where we are headed? Is it a curse? Is it a blessing?