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trillions of years ago . . . the infetesimal strata of the steps along the way . . . . . . .there is a secret of which the forest seeks an answer . . . turning my path into rage . . . . . My memory dips far into the rage, and yet the calm, the peace . . . . the sanity that I want, . . . how can I tell you . . . . When I Open My Heartthe swirl, the help of the inner part of methat knoweth . . . . that helps is not what it is. but that it is not whatoh gosh, it brings me back to the purple ragefrom that which i can not escapeth from........i feel the gentle rain . . . which bringeth along my persoonal state of insanty . . . .v Whispering Man with the Moonunto me the beggining of that which i do not know . . . neither do you . . . .

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