Sandstorm

Sometimes, fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over, you play this out like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is YOU. Something inside of you. SO all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandsotrm you need to imagine.

And you really have to make it throughthat violent, metaphysical symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it. It will cut thought flesh like a thousand razor blood. You will catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure. Yes, in fact, weather the stoem is really over or not..But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm is all about.

J.