Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Dearest Phantasma
I stepped through a third door into a room where lay a dog with eyes as wide as saucers that shone with a light as bright as any moon, the better to talk through. Such expressive eyes my dearest Phantasma.
Best Halloween of my life last night. Maira had a party. Her housemates fired up all their fire toys. I noticed that, when I see some inspiring pieces of fire, the feeling resembles that of a hug, and not one of those wimpy half-hugs. Other fires light my laugh reflex and I can't stop laughing. I can still hear the howl and backfire of the fire jet, feel the bass of the fire ring blowing truck puffing rings 30' into the night, smell the woodsmoke in my nose, hear the sounds of smashing glass as the fire-breathing robots destroyed the model of a corporate headquarters type building, yes it was all that and more. Hmmm, I thought, these folks know how to have a nice time.
Right after the "Rodney King Riots" my mom put a big sign in the rear window of her Valiant, black paint on cardboard that read "BURN LA". Not that I am in favor burning ALL of LA, but she impressed me with that one. "From what I've tasted of desire..."
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