there are far worse places to live. Maybe the weather is afraid of us and just trying to keep us secluded. Its working. Our chords run taut to the tension of snapping. Spiders will fall when let go, tumbling into a reckless new world. For those who have been there before, maybe it'll be a nice refresher, like a cold storm with warm sun. There will be lightning and rainbows. Foliage in the sand dunes. Stars around the moon. high tide will drag us further from our broken spider links to a desert island, where carrier pigeons are the only means of connecting again.Without the birds there would be no new warnings, no updates, not a single tear or giggle shared. Neutrality. so let me bobb, tired and anxious for this new world. And please stop plaguing my dreams, its hard enough sleeping in the surf without your constant beestings, and persistant hope. If the surf sees to bring me ashore soon, I hope I feel what you feel, because last impressions told me you were there and happy.