"Thank you sir. I can't wait to open this up."
Simon walked out of the store, his chiper radiant aura infecting all unsuspecting bystanders, most of whom shrugged it off and went about their business. He held in his hand a tiny shiny box containing an iPod.
Although somewhat unstable in person, Simon was a thoughtful fellow in private. He regularly kept a journal, a simple legal pad and 2B pencil his favourite instruments of record. A week after his purchase he wrote...
Dreams from my Ipod
Why can't we all, whether we lean left or right, be like the opposing earplugs of my ipod. Whenever I leave them alone for any amount of time they become almost inseperably intertwined. You can blame chaos theory or you can accept that these tiny speakers are more than just fancy Q-tips®, sure they clear out the occasional stray globul of wax, but they also impart knowledge or uplift with music, it's not what they take out it's what they put in. I wish we could open our ears and other parts of ourselves and just listen and be together like these strange sound cords that I carry with me everywhere.
I hope we're ready when the time comes, because I can feel change is on the way. Something is going to show us all the underlying unity of the universe. I've been having wierd dreams lately. I get the sense that something big's going to happen, maybe as soon as tomorrow.
The next day Simon's house exploded.
