[goose song]

The shape of your void determines your form. I had heard the geese sing all morning — and my first choice was to be with them. Their door was shut but there was another door, and the warm wind. My void is shaped like goose song.

OK, maybe ignorance is, sometimes, bliss

Visit the original site also for a most eerie and disturbing picture. Atlas Shrugs: Hanging ‘Em High In Iran: The West does not know what it is dealing with. Nor should we. To understand the base inhumanity, the barbarism, is to make you one of them.