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January 18, 2007 / zanzi


a spirit wandering on the night air, a dim glow in the middle of the highway, an aurora setting the heavens alight, a gigantic spark and imagination ablaze. no one knows what the butterfly effect really means until it happens. he did, though. know it in a way so implicit, so tacitly understood, that it never surfaced as a thought in his mind. a part of him, he the vehicle that set it off, who made it happen.

people have bad dreams, wet dreams, day dreams, big dreams, sweet dreams, sweat dreams. all he ever did was snuff out a candle; even burnt his palm in the process. some people just don’t use their breath (others, one wishes, wouldn’t). and then there is that lonely voice -“what breath? what is it?”- and a windless sigh.


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