September 10, 2005
All this while I was wondering what was it that I could not hear, what was it that I could not make out from the muffled voices that surrounded me. In an unexpected instance, the haze lifted, the long-dead brown leaves blew away and the light that came to be was bright, stark and pervasive. In extinguishing the maddening hold of darkness, the light that shone also showed a land barren and entirely devoid of life. In its clarity one could see the the vastness constantly devoured by howling winds that proclaimed the beginning of a new day, every day. In the winds' passing, the muffled voices disentangled themselves and spilt themselves all over. The words were the same, only the howling and the tenor of the voices were different. Ultimately, it is just the same sand, the same wind, the same arid land and the same untruth spoken by the voices. In its own existence, the untruths only serve enrich itself to a further degree of purity and effectiveness. The rest is just a vast drama enacted in the ever-so capable direction of imagination.