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We understand how a baker interacts with the world.
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An explosion heard in the distance but felt in the ground, which we had been walking on before the sun crept over its peak, sparked a joy long forgotten.
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Václav Havel states that the system has become so ossified politically that there is practically no way for such nonconformity to be implemented within its official structures.
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I sat along the shore of a small lake nestled within the mountains of an arid desert, hours, if not days from the nearest dirt road.
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Clear skies illuminate each note in my headphones of John Coltrane’s Psalm, A Love Supreme.
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Minutes pass for hours as I await the years to come.
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Blue waters dark as fallen angels, cold as the bones of the unburied dead, and vast as the depths of the soul stared at me with answers to questions I did not know how to ask.