keep on reaching me despite this business of collapsing financial institutions who, no matter what happens in Wall Street, go on wheeling and dealing, concocting sweet-looking stratagems to get my attention, scheming to entice me in making that call, you know the one... with that 800 number going all the way to some call center in India, and I say why not? 35,000 miles, double miles for your dollars, and who cares about the fine print, plus, there is so much to read and so little time.
And then there is that snow blown around, covering the streets, forming mounds, dunes and hillocks, sticking to the bark of trees, stifling the possibility of colorful happenings, a messy things indeed, so white, so blend, so overwhelming, tending to weigh so heavily on the soul -mine at least.
I need color. I need sunlight. But carbon emissions are still too high and the planet is an easily thrown out of balance biosphere. Storms, blizzards, hurricanes, tornadoes and tsunamis, and I am pretty sure my car and yours have something to do with it...
Call it a hunch, call it what you want, and maybe I've been listening to too much radical banter. I don't know anymore.
Be well and have a wonderful day, week, month, trimester and year.
Trapped in a white canvas of soft snow and cold winds
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