

I’m much more proficient these days with my second language than my first, poetic even, but I do still take my time going down the wrong side of stairs, with the rail and my cane to support my movement.
For this and many more reasons, every day I live is a frozen revenge in a boiling summer served to fascists.






And yet, going to a remote corner of the planet, lying down on the ground, and taking it all in, forms the basis for most of our mythology and dreams.