She's picky about her conquerers.

We've gotta be all wrong about this notion of "the existence of god". For after all, all "existence is equivalent" here.

[We have to be honest all the time!]

But think about this wall. Its color; its wounds--their origin and all the time until this moment encompassing every other person enough to sit here. And more, it sits here in the dark hours too, every night being slightly altered from the night before.

Are we talking about the physical? No, we're talking about time--seen only through its wear. (Its quality of wearing down.)

So how does existence relate to time, if its state of equivalency seems based on the present? (Meaning that everything here is equally accidental...the whole at any given moment, [she's careful with her destroyers] and only as for instance, this one now.)

Time's breath moves slowly. Possibly the only way we can relate to it is in the monotony of our routines--subtle changes gradually changing everything, and too small to notice more than much.

Bah.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (12/12/06)