Be Brave


When the world knows beauty as beauty, ugliness arises
When it knows good as good, evil arises
Thus being and non-being produce each other
Difficult and easy bring about each other
Long and short reveal each other
High and low support each other
Music and voice harmonize each other
Front and back follow each other  ~  Lao Tzu

This is an old lesson that I seem to have some trouble digesting.  Instinctively, I remove myself from the issues and problems of the world so that I can maintain my positive thoughts and tranquil emotions, which I have cultivated through the hard work of staying mindful in the present and meditation.  Sadly, this also isolates me and turns me into an unwitting hermit.

I sometimes feel like the proverbial recluse living in a cave and sustained by a bowl of rice a day and the air I breathe.  Of course, I eat far better than that, and my breathing is augmented by scented air fresheners and such, but you get the idea.  There is only so much growth I can go through by myself, and alone with my thoughts.  Eventually, I have to go out and interact with the world at large–get exposed to the darker edges, inoculate myself with the lesser germs so that my inner self will be strengthened with the effort of resisting them.  After all, how can I fight the stronger evils if I can’t even face the lesser ones?


I’m not doing anything avant garde here.  Even Jesus had to expose himself to the devil to prove that he could maintain his pure goodness, surrounded by evil from all sides.  I too, must face my challenges and adversities to gauge how strong my inner strength is, and where I need to improve.  I should not shy away from experiencing it.  These are opportunistic times to further my growth.

Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. ~  Brené Brown.

3D Yin Yang

Sometimes, it’s just easier to see it animated in video format as opposed to trying to visualize this, or prove it in mathematical formulas.  I, therefore, am very grateful for those who are responsible for putting this video together.  Much gratitude!!!

The Forest, Regardless of the Trees


Sometimes, just sometimes…we have to stand back a little to see the scope of the entire picture.  I mean, it’s ok to focus in on the myriad of infinite details to understand more about what’s what, but to get the gist of what’s going on, we have to see the forest as a small portion of the cosmos and not get bogged down by all the trees that make up that forest.

curly hair section

Take a look at exhibit A:  Here we have, what is obviously a person’s hair, but let’s just assume we don’t know what it is.  All we see are stray strands of something dark and kinky, and we have no idea what any of this means.  One way to understand this would be to zoom in on the details.

As our microscopic view increases, we see that certain strands curve up and others wind down.  We see knots and tangles here and there, and huge sections clumped together in random fashion while other strands stray away from the main mass of convoluting assemblage.

Since deduction about its properties is meaningless without the ability to prove what it is with hard science and mathematics, we bring in the math and try to figure out all the possibilities of curvature and movement of the individual strands, based upon how it is moving away from the mass.  We get something like this:


This is what is known as a Feynman diagram.  It details the possible combinations of movements, at the quantum level, that a particle can travel based upon certain criteria such as a possible collision with certain other probable possibilities.  Since the possibilities are quite literally, almost infinite, the number of calculations for each possibility is also quite dense and also quite cryptic.

The math is quite interesting.  It looks something like this:


Now, I’m not knocking the Feynman diagrams.  We should approach problem solving by delving into the quantum level to understand it at its most basic components.  This is how we are able to replicate something.  It does have a very important place in the slow but steady movement towards understanding all the myriad truths of our existence.  My thought here is that understanding of the bark and leaves of the trees should not be the only method in our plodding attempts to grasp the truths about the entire forest.

OK, so now, based upon the Feynman diagrams, we know that if the strand of whatever it is curves this way, it has several million possibilities to move in certain directions, depending on certain factors such as time of day, ambient temperatures in the air, random external drafts of wind, etc. etc. etc.

Knowing all this, we are still back at the main problem of not knowing what it is we are looking at.  This is the problem of analysing the trees to see what the forest looks like.  There is no way we can see that the forest of wavy strands look like this:

curly hair

So while it’s cool to look at the edges and ponder on the significance of the direction and curvature of the individual strands of someone’s hair, it can hardly be illuminating.  I mean, who cares why one strand sticks out in one direction while another strand curls in the opposite direction.  Does it really matter when the truth is, the tiny section of gnarled tangled strands actually belong on the head of a very beautiful woman?

Taking this into consideration, and going back to the Feynman diagrams, what the mathematics was trying to prove are the movements of the individual dots, as they fly in space, come together to create something huge.  Each of these ‘something-huge’ is then a single dot, moving in the same Feynman-esque manner, to become another ‘something’ that is even larger, which brings us to one of our truths.

It is a fractal.

The math represents the squiggles, which represent the individual movement of the individuated points of the fractal, going in either direction, either extremely large or extremely small.  It does not matter which direction we look, the fractal remains the same.  And to be fair, we have been taught this in a myriad of ways.

As above, so below.  As within, so without.

The Sacred Geometries are obvious, if one knows where to look.  It is in everything, from the astronomic to the microcosmic, and we are all part of that Geometry.  This geometry is called the Scattering Amplitudes and the Positive Grassmannian, the brainchild of Nima Arkani-HamedJaroslav Trnka, and a group of scientists who published their findings on December 21, 2012.

The resulting amplituhedron, when mathematically calculated and drawn, is the end result of what would have been a huge mess.  When taken as a fractal, it is simple in its poetic elegance.
orb fractal


Since the moving picture is too much to take in, if we freeze frame the moving GIF above, we get this:


This is what we are, and what the Universe is made of.  We are all part of this fractal, going from the very large to the very small.

There is much more to talk about in regards to this structure, but it will have to wait for the next post, as I am headed out the door for a nice lunch with a friend.


[1] Scatering Amplitudes and the Positive Grassmannian

[2] Amplituhedron Poster

Driving Bering Strait


Stagnation is a desired state-of-being.

In fact, many people don’t want anything to change and will fight tooth and nail to avoid any real changes.  This may be due to the idea that, in general, people want things to stay the same forever and ever, even when things are not as great as they could possibly be.  Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t–or so they say.  

Well, we Taobabes are under no illusion about the state of permanence (or lack thereof) of the universe.  In fact, the I Ching is not called The Book of Changes for nothing, because for better or worse, EVERYTHING changes, including those things that were once thought of as immutable and invincible.

The North Pole, although not exactly permanent, was still one of those immutable things that I never would have thought would change within my lifetime, but stranger things have happened.  According to NASA, the North Pole is (slowly) moving towards London.


“Around the year 2000, Earth’s spin axis took an abrupt turn toward the east and is now drifting almost twice as fast as before, at a rate of almost 7 inches (17 centimeters) a year.  ‘It’s…moving…toward the British Isles,’ said Adhikari.” [1]

Seven inches is not a huge amount, granted, but grand canyons have been carved from drops of water, grinding away relentlessly at it over time.  Add to this the fact that pole changes are not constant (meaning it can–and quite often did–move quickly over a very short amount of time), points to the likelihood that we are poised on the edge of that inconceivable pole change.  

Please do not confuse this pole change to that very dramatic movement called Pole Reversal, which although quite grandiose in comparison and very much overdue, is not part of the scope of this post.  This north pole movement is more in line with that of the Precession of the Earth, which I detailed in one of my previous posts, Winter In July.

The shift in the direction of the north pole would cause northern Europe to become subsumed into the frigid region of extreme north, causing certain areas of the world to become much more difficult to live in.  Conversely, it will also open up other parts of the world, allowing for milder climate and the dissipation of what had heretofore been considered perma-frost.  In other words, with that much shift in the pole’s location, Alaska would be almost tropical.


With warmer days ahead for Alaska and its Russian counterparts, life on this part of the North American continental plate would become much easier.  Warm days will be longer, and cold days will lessen.  This has already been reported to NASA by the Native Americans living in and around Alaska.  

inuitThe Inuits have been reporting as early as 2013 that the earth has shifted or “wobbled”.  The elders declare that the sun rises at a different position now, as opposed to where it previously rose.  The sun is much higher in the sky now than at any time in Inuit collective memory.  The Inuit reported a longer daylight, allowing them to hunt for longer time period.  

  Furthermore, the area is getting warmer, and much more quickly than before. Other Native American elders across the north also confirmed these celestial changes when interviewed. [2]

The idea of having a bridge (or tunnel) across the Bering Strait, all of a sudden, makes sense.  The construction and maintenance efforts would be quite feasible, given the extra hours of sunlight and extra degrees of warmth in winter that this area will receive due to the changes in the pole.  

In anticipation of warmer days ahead, the President of the Russian Railways company Vladimir Yakunin wants to build an expanse that would be worthy of the most die-hard of road enthusiasts. [3]  


His proposal consists of a bold plan to build a driveable road across the Bering Strait, following along the route of the old Moscow-to-Vladivostok passage and ultimately across 55 miles of Bering Sea.  This sea-crossing passage would, of course, be linked to another yet-to-be-constructed roadway which would have to forge through certain remote regions of Alaska.


Now, to be fair, this idea is not a new one.  A railway and tunnel had been proposed as early as 1905 by Tsar Nicholas II, but there were many setbacks, not the least of which were wars, both bloody and cold.  

It would also be very costly.  

The price tag on the bridge alone is roughly along the lines of 25 to 50 billion dollars.  Add in the connecting roads which need to span across Europe, Russia, and Alaska and the number grows to 1.5 trillion, roughly what the US spent on the Iraqi war, which gained us tax payers absolutely nothing but the tragic deaths of 4,491 military troops, not to mention many more wounded soldiers. [4]

Obviously, for this to happen, the world would have to be a much more peaceful place.  That peace could possibly begin with a literal bridge that would connect the two super powers in a tangible fashion, facilitating the flow of goods, information, and people back and forth to either side.  Should this bridge ever become a reality, I will be packing my gear and making that long drive to the other side.


[1] NASA Earth Pole Movement

[2] Inuit Claims Earth Shifted

[3] Russia Rail & Tunnel Bridge Bering Strait

[4] Super Highway Across Bering Strait






The Difference Between Truth and Faith

flying girl

I get those light-as-air floating dreams quite often.  It’s so real, I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

In my dreams, the pinches hurt.  Reassured that this is, indeed, not a dream, I go about my day, bounding and floating on gossamers of light.  I even show family and friends how to do it.

“It’s all in the mind.”  I announced with purposeful glee.  “Allow the possibility to become real, and it will become fact.”

“You have so much FAITH!”  They cry in distress.  “How can I cultivate this much FAITH?”

“It’s not Faith,”  I laughed.  “It’s understanding and acceptance of the Truth.”

They looked at me with skepticism.  After all, isn’t FAITH one of the magical properties of the Bible, as specified in the book of Corinthians?   “Three things will last forever–faith, hope, and love.  But the greatest of these is love.” ~ 1 Corinthians 13:13

I shook my head.  “I’m not denouncing Faith.  In fact, I am all about Faith, Hope, and Love.  But in this matter, it is not Faith that drives me, it is the knowledge that it is, indeed, Truth.”  I said, pointing to myself.  “I have no doubt that I am doing this now.  This is not my Faith working.  This is my Truth.”

I took a step and bounced up into the air, hovering above them.  As my body sank to the ground, I leapt once again, moving through the atmosphere and lightly brushing shrubs and branches to steer myself.  Coming ever closer to the edge of a pond, I aimed for the water and took a single step on the water’s surface, bounding once again, into midair.

A few steps more and it looked as if I could walk on water, when in reality, I was merely utilizing the surface tension of the water to bound upward.  In this manner, I traveled huge distances with very little energy exerted, and within minutes, had bounded back to my family, sinking to the surface next to them.

“Give it a try,”  I urged.  “You have nothing to lose but a little bit of gravity.”

I held out my hand and smiled.  With hesitation, they reached out to take my hands.  I gave them an encouraging nod and bounced upward, lifting them up.

And up they went.

Hidden Path to Hòn Bà Island


I sucked in the sweltering tropical air and tried to ignore the sweat rolling down the sides of my face, onto my neck, and soaking into the top edge of my sundress.  My clothes clung to me like warm wet napkins and my hair was plastered to my skull underneath the wide brim hat.  The Tao Babe was melting like a softened wax figurine in the fierce heat of the midday sun and there was nothing I could do about it.

Using as little motion as possible to conserve strength, I tilted the wide brim of my hat to block out as much of the glaring afternoon sun as I could, and fought off a yawn.  I was tired and achy and my arms were riddled with red welts from mosquito bites acquired after a full day of sightseeing where I indiscriminately plowed through bushes and pointed my camera at everything I saw.  Vũng Tàu is a seriously photogenic city, sprawling along the sparkling azure coast of south Vietnam, but as excited as I was about the surroundings, my level of tolerance for heat and humidity was limited to what my body could handle.  At that moment, it was telling me to seek a cool, air-conditioned bed and take the edge off the jet lag.  I was so ready to get out of the heat.  

And then she flashed into view.


I tapped the taxi driver and asked him to pull over.  I had to get a better look at this thing. Grabbing my camera, I charged out into the full tropical sun, all thoughts of heat exhaustion evaporating like a puff of someone else’s cigarette smoke left behind as I raced to the edge of the cliff where we had pulled over.  This place called out to me like a siren in the distance.  There was something about it that fired up all my senses.

As I began snapping photo after photo of the place, I could feel the driver’s presence behind me like a silent ghost.  He had gotten used to the sound of the camera shutter going full speed while I worked without a word, just as I had gotten used to his presence.

All my focus was on the island itself.  My first impression of the place was that the island was a floating emerald jewel, on top of a sparkling aqua ocean.  And then I noticed the red-roofed structure jutting up at the top of the island.  It was a temple.

“What is the name of that island and who is that temple dedicated to?”  I asked the driver.

“The island has been named and renamed many times throughout the ages,” he responded in thoughtful Vietnamese.  “The locals call it Hòn Bà (the Lady’s Island).”

“Why?”  I asked, squinting at the various structures built there.  He shrugged, unable to tell me anything more about the place.  I turned off my camera and signaled to him that I was ready to go.  As we drove away, I asked him to take me to their local book store.  I had to find out more about the temple.  Several hours later, I was sitting by the pool, my nose buried deep within a book about the region, the people, the history, and the legends of the area.  This is what I found out.


Hòn Bà is a tiny islet off the coast of Vũng Tàu, Vietnam.  It has been named and re-named many times in the past, depending on who the dominant occupier-du-jour is.  Its current moniker, Hòn Bà, is the most recent incarnation.

In the vast distance of time, before the Viet people settled in the area, but from my calculations, after the great flood which swallowed most of Sundaland (see my notes on Sunda) the Champa people spread out from central Vietnam all the way down to the southernmost point of Vietnam.  Vestiges of their culture and architecture still exists to this day.

Poh Nagar, (aka Y Ana to the Vietnamese) means (Lady of the Champa Kingdom) and the Champa people worshipped her in much the same way that the Vietnamese venerated Y Ana.  The Island was called Hòn Bà (The Lady’s Island), and the temple was called the Lady’s Temple.

Not much about the temple or island changed, even after the Vietnamese took control of the area since Y Ana and Poh Nagar were one and the same deity who had been venerated throughout the land.  The Lady’s Island was still Hòn Bà (The Lady’s Island) and the Lady’s Temple was still Miếu Bà (The Lady’s Temple).

And then the French took over the area and forbade the people, both Viet and Champa, to approach Hòn Bà.  They built ugly bunkers at the foot of the island (which can still be seen as a vestige of their dominion of the place), and defaced the goddess by chopping off her head and hands.  Then, they stole the head and took it to France, where they put her on display in one of their museums.  Then, in 1939, a Frenchman named Archinard took pot shots at the temple, in a show of dominance and disrespect for the local populace and their goddess.  He shot three bullets at the temple, one of which did some minor damage to a corner of the structure.  Someone should have told Archinard that Karma is a bitch, but he was none the wiser because he came to an untimely end soon thereafter, when he accidentally took his life with a careless bullet from his own weapon.

In honor of his stupidity, the French named the island Archinard.  That name lasted only as long as the French were there, and was only used by the French in their maps of the area.  The people continued to called the island Hòn Bà, and once the French removed themselves, they rebuilt the temple and re-name the island Hòn Bà.

Over time, the identity of Y Ana merged with the more ancient veneration of the goddess Thủy Long Thần Nữ (the Water Elemental goddess), one of the five Taoist Elementals,  and paid homage to both at the same time.  I will talk more about the Water Elementals in another posting:  what she is, why she is female, and why people chose this location for venerating her, instead of one of the other lovelies depicted below.


Hòn Bà is uninhabited due to the fact that the island has no access to electricity or running water, and other than a caretaker or two, for parts of the year, it is mostly empty.  The reason is simple.

There is no easy way to get there.

To get there by boat means going all the way around the island and then coming ashore in specific areas that were deep enough to avoid grounding and damaging the boat.  This adds to the cost of traveling by boat to the island, not to mention the fact that you had to pay the boatman to remain there until you were ready to depart to avoid being stranded.

If, however, you were patient and were willing to time the excursion to the natural rhythm of the heavens and the earth, you could actually walk there.  On the 14th and the 15th day of every lunar calendar month (also known as the Yin calendar because it follows the moon’s cycle, not to mention the female menstrual cycle), a path miraculously appears, effectively joining the island to the mainland, allowing access to the island for the faithful devotees (along with the curious and the uninitiated).  To the devotees, it was a heavenly sign, something that was akin to Moses, parting the sea for the children of Israel to escape persecution.  Of course, we can explain this as simply time and tide.



This ‘parting of the ocean’ is due to the tidal actions of the moon’s waxing/waning cycles which cause high tides and low tides.

For most of the month, the water is too deep to traverse, but at ebb tide, its lowest point, the Pacific Ocean exposes a boulder-strewn path encrusted with sharp, slippery coral.  There are only a few aqueously-subsumed (but often-used) roads around the world, so this is relatively rare.

Let it never be said that paying homage to a Water Elemental goddess was going to be a walk in the park.  Unlike the Tao which, according to Lao Tzu, is broad and plain, this path is treacherous and arduous.  As I was told, many a foot has been shredded and bloodied due to slipping on the sharp rocks.  It takes a strong-of-heart and steady-of-feet devotee to make the trek by foot to the edge of the island.   A healthy body and a pair of waterproof sturdy shoes are highly recommended for this excursion.  A walking stick wouldn’t hurt either.  As if that wasn’t enough, there is only about 2 hours of ebb time available before the tides rise again and obliterate the only path that takes visitors back to the mainland.

At the foot of the island, the devotees are faced with the first of a series of stairs.  There are about 120 steps to get to the top of the mountain.  After huffing and puffing their way up, with plenty of stops along the way to keep the screaming in their muscles down to a dull roar, they are greeted to the welcoming sight of Miếu Bà.


Miếu Bà (The Lady’s Temple) is small and relatively simple, especially when compared to other temples of its kind and relative age.  The Champa were already using this location as a worship site back in the 1700s and had a Champa-style temple constructed there.  Compared this to the thousands of years of documented Southeast Asian history and a few hundred years would be considered the very recent past.

Looking at the architecture of this temple, however, I could tell, even without research, that it is quite modern, by Asian temple standards.  This is due to its unique location.  Anyone who has ever lived on the beach can vouch for the extreme weathering that seaside structures must endure.  Without constant upkeep and maintenance, the buildings fall into ruins in relative quick succession.  The latest major rebuilding effort of the then dilapidated temple was in 1971, which resulted in a Vietnamese-looking building with red tiled roofs and squared stucco-looking walls.


Immediately outside the temple is the marble statue of what is suppose to represent Thủy Long Thần Nữ, the Water Elemental goddess.  To my eye, the statue is staid and matronly, in a lack-lustre and utterly boring manner–artistically devoid of any movement or fluidity.

I suppose that is what most people think a matronly goddess deserving of worship should look like.  Heavens forbid they should have any sort of personality, or glamour, or even joie de vivre about them.  It would break the spell of…worship-ability.


To me, a mother goddess does not necessarily have to be so stodgy and insipidly represented.  As a representative of a major Taoist element, the Water goddess should be a seriously stunning Tao Babe!

I have met many a young, vivacious, joyful mother with grace, beauty, intelligence, and talent to spare.  I personally feel she should look something more like this.

But eh.  What do I know.

The courtyard surrounding the structure is dotted with smaller shrines dedicated to other various minor deities.  I have no idea what or who the shrines are for since there is very little to indicate who or what they are venerating.

I suppose I could find out if I really felt the need to know, but my quest is focused on the deity-du-jour, the Water Elemental, and as scattered as I get sometimes, I feel that narrowing the focus down to her would allow me to at least get this post written without too many other inane, useless, rambling asides.

Anyway, back to the main subject.

Within the temple are also various other deities who have little (nothing really) to do with The Lady.  In short, there are LOTS of deities all over the place, and they all come in every shape and size and color that anyone would ever desire.


No doubt about it, this place is very spiritually engaged.  From the top of Cloud Lake, where a huge fat white laughing Buddha sits within a themed amusement park, to the enormous arms-outstretched Jesus overlooking Back Beach that you can clearly see from Hòn Bà, these huge obvious signs of religious dynamics form an integrated internal structure which molds and shapes the local populace’s mindset and shows the level of popularity each individual deity enjoys.

Yet, even though this ancient folk religion has been relegated to a tiny, hard to reach island in Southeast Asia, the amazing thing is that it is still flourishing and being transferred from one generation to another.  This is evidenced by the constant flow of fresh fruit and flowers from the mainland, as well as an almost continuous billow of wispy strands of incense smoke rising up from the various scattered shrines and at the foot of The Lady herself.  She has been woven into the fabric of the community for so long, with such rich and lavish threads, there is every reason to believe that her legacy will carry on into successive new generations.

I want to continue my next posting about Po Nagar (Y Ana), but I should focus on the Five Elementals too…that is…after I talk about Phù Đổng Thiên Vương (扶董天王).


Paper Bullets


Yet again, another one of those highly disturbing dreams, bordering on nightmarish visions that I feel the need to capture in words.

I am surrounded by happy friendly people, all of whom I know well in my dream, but none of whom I have ever met in real life.  We are at my house, having some type of co-op college party.  I was taking a shower when all of a sudden, the sound of air raid horns blare off in long harsh, nerve jangling screams.  I shut off the water and ran to the window, just in time to see smoke rising up from the distance, as jets fly in all directions, firing projectile weapons at something I could barely make out.  I would have focused my attention on what the jets were firing upon except that my eyes were distracted by what was coming towards us, from the ground.


They were obviously not from this world.  They were non-humanoid in form, and they were charging straight at us.  In a panic, I pulled a couple of towels from the rack, draped one around my still-dripping hair, and one around my body in sarong style, and ran out to the living room.  Several of the girls pulled  my hand.  Come, come!  We have to leave this area!  As they were ushering me out, all I could think of was, I have no clothes on! I don’t even have shoes on!  But I had no choice. Ignoring the amused looks coming from the guys, I ran out with the girls, into what looked like a battle ground.  No. Let me rephrase that.

It was a fucking war zone.

I was horrified.  There was artillery raining down on us from both sides of the war, and the girls were shooting up at whatever and whoever was shooting down, using some type of hand missile launchers.  One of the girls handed me a missile launcher and told me to aim it at the extraterrestrials.  I took a good look at the weapon that had been unceremoniously dumped into my hand and gave a hysterical laugh.

There was no fricking way this thing could possibly do anything to anybody.  It was a missile launcher that used, of all things as ammunition, paper rounds.  In essence, they were shooting paper missiles into the air at a people who had the technology to come here from astronomical distances through space and time.  To my utter amazement, the paper bullets exploded on contact into millions of pieces of colorful confetti and folded origami cranes.  All the tiny paper shrapnel floated to the ground in dancing waves of celebratory cheer, even as the war raged on.

I threw the weapon to the ground in disgust.  I did not want to shoot at anybody anyhow, extraterrestrials or not.  Their lives were just as precious as mine was, and their souls, just as connected to mine as I was to myself.  I was damned if I was going to treat them any differently than I treated the people around me at my co-op party.

I stood under that darkened sky, filled with smoke and artillery of every type, trying my best to garner all the love and good will I had inside my body.  With every ounce of my being, I threw up my arms and aimed blasts of love and good will into the sky.  Alas, it was completely inadequate.  There was just too much chaos around me.  The sky was too large for my puny little effort.  I was panicking fast, but I knew I could not succumb to the fear of my inadequacy.  Gathering up all the pure chi that I had left inside my core inner being, I cast waves of love out in a bubble shape, as wide as I could, and then I shut my eyes and held my ground.  If I died, then at least I died with thoughts of love and peace.

Well, it must have been quite peaceful because I actually fell asleep in my dream.  I was awakened later, by a couple of the girls who had pulled me out.  They were smiling at me as if trying to reassure me that all was well.  I got up and looked around, and was amazed that I was lying in the middle of a huge impact crater.  The ridges around me perfectly matched the ring (or dome) of love and goodwill I had been trying to project.  It seemed then, that my love and good will could not protect me or anyone around me, from the war that was going on around me, but at least I had not died from the craziness around me.

The girls led me back to my house, and again, I had to avert my eyes from the merriment and smiles I felt coming from the guys who were still at the house.  I was painfully aware of my filthy body, covered by the grime of warfare, clothed in nothing but a bath towel.  It was at about this time that I thankfully woke up.  I have not had a chance yet, to analyze this dream, but it bothered me so much that I think–I think I’m going to go take a shower.


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