Monday, March 1, 2010

I went to the mountain on a Thursday.

I listened to a Russian man with a grated voice. The harsh rasp of the man's song did not compliment; it did not focus my attention on any particular beauty or another. The view from the mountain was arresting - so much so that I stated it publicly, yet let the Russian man's music play. For who am I to question the relevance of immediate influence from opposing forces?  I felt torn for the benefit of sanity, but opinion was utterly incoherent in this type of context. Right?
I keep to myself sometimes, which is good.

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