THE VIEW FROM HERE
It is times like these that force one to reflect. One must hope to unearth some degree of comfort in casting one's mind back, because there is very little solace in looking ahead. The symphony from where the tracks converge bleats of turmoil, velocity and rancor. Velocity with no destination, turmoil with no purpose and rancor bred by the impossibility of understanding the shape of the envelope.
For three thousand years my view has had the static element of predictability. Yes, things changed. Philosophies held sway and blew with the wind, kingdoms rose and fell to the iron fist but...(continued)
For three thousand years my view has had the static element of predictability. Yes, things changed. Philosophies held sway and blew with the wind, kingdoms rose and fell to the iron fist but...(continued)
